


Are We Fucking?

by Butterynutjob



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Porn Stars, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Anal Sex, Bondage, Breathplay, Butt Plugs, Chess, Crying Kink, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, F/M, Happy Ending, LITERALLY, Los Angeles, M/M, Mutant Registration Act, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Sex, Slash, Spanking, Using powers during sex, Vulgar Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:51:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 89,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2166435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterynutjob/pseuds/Butterynutjob
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in Los Angeles in 2002, Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr are porn stars in a universe where the Registration Act has forced many mutants to do less-than-savory things to survive in a society where discrimination against mutants is rampant.  Adult films are one of the few industries where mutants can legally make some decent money, and Charles Xavier was doing fine at it until he met fellow porn star and mutant Erik Lehnsherr and realized that he was not as okay with his life as he had thought.</p><p>(formerly titled XXX-men, but there are too many other fics with that name!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Summary of things that justify the "Rape/Non-Con" tag (contains SPOILERS, so scroll down if you want to skip):
> 
> Charles is drugged and induced (No Violence) into performing oral sex on a man (not Erik).  
> Dub-con: Erik pays part of his rent by allowing his landlord (Shaw) to have anal sex with him. No Violence.

"Doctor XXX, Magianto, you guys are up next," the PA told them. "Everything copacetic?"

Idly, Charles wondered what someone working on an adult film set would be doing with a vocabulary that included the word 'copacetic'." Then again, he was here, using his All-But-Dissertation Doctorate degree in genetics to let himself be filmed whilst fucking.

"Yes, here, good to go," he called out instead, in his best imitation of a Californian accent. His usual long blonde wig was absent today, and a shiny bald cap was in its place. It was not terribly comfortable, but anything that contributed to Charles being less recognizable was welcome.

"Hello, Frankie," he heard a baritone voice with a slight German accent greet him. "It's been a while."

"Yes, it has," Charles responded automatically, turning his head to take in the speaker. It was none other than the man who was his co-star in this film, the guy who played the hero, Magianto. The man was gorgeous, with a chiselled jaw and ginger stubble, blue-green hooded eyes. Charles wasn't sure of his real name - real names weren't something that got thrown around a lot of sets like these. Charles felt like he should know the man’s working name, but that wasn’t coming to him either. So to speak. But he could bluff on what he did know. "Ah," Charles said with a smile. "Magianto. If memory serves, the name fits--" 

"--and the dick doesn't," the taller man finished. "Who do you think thought up that tagline?" He grinned as Charles laughed. Charles had never had sex with the man, but they had worked on another film together, each fucking other people. 

Charles had to chuckle in agreement. "Tables are turned, for this scene," he commented with deliberate casualness, because he was actually kind of looking forward to something a little new. "Turns out the opening scene is the villainous Doctor XXX ravishing poor heroic Magianto."

Surely he'd known this, but he regarded Charles with one raised eyebrow. "Really? That's not usually your forte, is it, Doc?" 

Charles tried not to flush at that comment, but he did. Charles was best-known as a bottom. He'd even won the Best Bottom of 2001 award at AVN. But that didn't mean he didn't top. He shrugged. "Nobody wants to get stuck in a rut."

"Well," said the taller man. "I'm told I have a pretty good rut." He smirked. 

Charles scrunched his face at the bad joke but he had to laugh, too. Any minute now. He checked his appearance in the mirror - pubic hair neatly trimmed, his bald cap was in place, and his “XXX” mask was in place. He'd taken his Viagra an hour before so while his penis was not at the moment fully erect, it was about halfway there and could be in a just a few seconds of attention. _Proper porn villain_ , he thought. There was no joy in the thought, just a weariness he couldn't exactly find the outlines of.

The other man, the man he would be fucking soon, wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing, no mask, nothing except for a little eyeliner. Charles briefly wondered how terrifying that must be. He also concluded the other man probably didn't have family. He thought about peeking into the man's mind but decided not to. He'd found out the hard way how unpleasant it could be to have sex with someone when that person was not remotely attracted to him, and he'd rather not find that out right before a first scene with a new partner.

Charles turned to Magianto, becoming suddenly irrationally annoyed at the stupid name. He saw a name in the man's thoughts even though he definitely wasn't peeking. "Is there something I can call you?" he said suddenly. "Magianto - is - a mouthful.".

Magianto cocked his eyebrow at Charles. "Oh, good lord," Charles muttered. "I should be saving some of this banter for the camera."

The other man chuckled. "My working name is Max Alwayshardt," he said, shrugging. "I'm Erik, though, if that's what you wanted to know." He looked at Charles for a moment and something in his eye made Charles not want to look away. Suddenly he chortled. "It's a little ridiculous that you can toss off better banter than our exalted _scriptwriters,_ ," he said.

"I think the ‘tossing off’ is a later scene," Charles responded, with a slight grin. 

"You're proving my point," Erik said, grinning wider.

The PA came to get them and they walked the short way to the set. 

"Heeey, Doctor XXX and Magianto, fuck yeah, you guys look hot. Ready to fuck?" The director was speaking to them, a man who, in Charles opinion, was almost a caricature of himself. He looked like the offspring of Andrew Dice Clay and an oompa-loompa. He was always full of a little too much fake and creepy enthusiasm. Nevertheless, he was probably bankrolling this gig, so Charles forced a smile on his face.

"I am," Charles said simply. Erik nodded, his face a carefully controlled pleasant expression. 

"Great! So Hank'll feed you your lines, and then Doc you start fucking Mags, rough-like. Okay?"

Charles lips tightened. "I know my lines," he said curtly, although what really bothered him was the vague direction. _'Rough-like'? This is porn; We are not dealing in black and white but shades of gray._ He glanced at Erik, whose lips were pressed in a tight line. 

"Gee-reat," said the director. "Mags, you are handcuffed and face down on the bed. Hank, would you get him set-up with that...? Okay, thanks, kid. Doc, you come into the room when I say 'action' and start with those lines, mmkay? Yeah. Yeah man. Okay. Start rolling - and - action!"

Charles entered the room, rubbing his hands together in the international symbol for _I am a bad man in a good mood_. 

"Magianto," he said, "At last, I have you where I want you."

"You'll never get away with this, Doctor XXX!" Erik exclaimed, wriggling rather delightfully on the bed. Charles felt his cock do what it was supposed to and rise to the occasion. 

"Old friend, why would I want to get away?" Charles said. He was a little off-script now, but he doubted anyone would notice or care, and anyway his line was better. He approached the bed and grabbed a handful of Erik's ass. 

"Is this how you treat a friend?" Erik grunted, pushing his ass towards Charles in a way that was both eager and reluctant all at once. That line was not at all what the script dictated, but Charles found himself a little impressed at how Erik communicated physically. 

"Only friends I particularly like," Charles purred. He slapped Erik's ass and ran his hand down Erik's crack. He frowned for a moment as he looked around for lube - usually it was placed very obviously...

"Cut!" The director said. Charles abruptly remembered the director's name: Louie. 

"Doc, you need to be a little less careful," Louie said. "You need to _ravish_ him. You know what that means, right?" 

"I think I do," Charles replied, tartly. "Maybe it doesn't mean what _you_ think it means." 

"It means--rough. Just shove it in, just fuck him. Get it?"

_Simulated rape,_ Charles thinks angrily. He doesn't like that, and especially doesn't like idea of his co-star not being properly prepared to get fucked. Erik seems to know where his mind is going, though.

"I'm already prepped, just so you know," Erik said to Charles, rolling on his side so he could make eye contact while he spoke over the crook of his shoulder, considering his hands were still cuffed above his head. "Number 2 butt plug until just before we spoke a few minutes ago." He gave Charles an appraising glance and said, "I should have used a number 3." 

"That's very kind of you to say," Charles replied in a coolly cordial tone, letting a hint of his natural British accent color the words. They made eye contact, and for a minute both men smirked at the ridiculousness of porn set etiquette. 

"I did a shoot with Louie last week - learned the hard way that he doesn't like to film the prep," Erik continued under his breath. Charles felt a pang, then, for this man who he was starting to quite like. Charles started to say something angrily but Erik waved it away--with his elbow, since his hands were still cuffed. 

"If we're all done making nice, can we get to the fucking?" Louie said, unpleasantly.

Charles gave him a flat stare. "I don't see any condoms."

"Oh yeah, Princess wants a condom. It's in his contract," Louie explained to nobody, clearly regretting the contracted condom clause. He waved to the PA, Hank, who handed a condom to Charles somewhat meekly. Charles opened it and rolled it on and then grimly nodded to Louie. Putting on the condom wouldn't be on camera; continuity be damned. At a light touch from Charles, Erik rolled back over on his front. 

"Action!"

Charles was back on the horrible script. "When I said 'Up Yours' - I meant it literally!" he said to Erik, and carefully put his sheathed cock in Erik's ass. Despite his claim that he'd prepared, he felt from Erik's physical response, specifically the tightness in his anus, that Charles would have hurt his co-star if he'd 'just shoved in' as Louie wanted. He slowly rocked in, grasping Erik's hips, giving a little bit at a time, not aiming to please, necessarily, but just to not hurt. 

"Are you having fun, Chuck?" Louie asked with a sneer. Charles froze and turned to fix the man with an icy stare at the sound of the nickname. Louie of course had seen his identification; he'd had to in order to comply with 2257 reporting requirements. Charles was more protective of his real name that most porn actors, and Louie was getting uncomfortably close to crossing more than one line today. "Now that you know it's gonna fucking _fit_ , will you fucking _fuck_ him already?" 

"I'm good," Erik said to Charles quietly, and added, even more quietly, "but thank you for that."

Charles gave his co-star a quick rub on his back in acknowledgement and started vigorously fucking, not even waiting for the "action" - he actually wasn't even sure if they'd ever stopped filming. "You'll be feeling this for weeks, Magianto!" He exclaimed in character, raking his hands down Erik's back in a way that he hoped looked far more brutal than it actually was, then grasping Erik's hips and gyrating wildly.

He wasn't usually a top, so he felt a little out of his element performing this way. He thought it was ridiculous that the director wanted him to be a _brutal_ villain. The things he was known for--his red mouth, his blue eyes, his long mane of (fake) blond hair, and being a bottom--meant he was usually cast as the victim in scenarios like these, and he thought if he had to be the villain any director with half a brain would make him a sleek, insidious villain, more like Dracula, or Tom Hiddleston. 

"You bored, Frankie?" 

Louie's voice snapped him out of his reverie. He _had_ been kind of fucking on automatic. He looked up a little guiltily and Louie motioned for him to continue. He tried to do so with a bit more enthusiasm. "I don't know how anyone did this before Viagra," he muttered, and felt Erik chuckle under him. He immediately felt chagrined. "No offense," he added quickly. "You are very attractive--"

"I'm usually in your position; believe me, I know," was Erik's response. 

"Magianto, can you try and get away?" Louie asked.

Erik flailed a bit and pushed himself up on the bed and away from Charles--which Charles let him do, instead of following as he knew Louie wanted. 

"Fuck, Frankie," Louise moaned, his face in his hands. "Can you work with me here?"

"I won't simulate rape," Charles said flatly. Erik turned his head and looked at Charles but did not say anything. 

"Okay, okay, everyone take five," Louie huffed. He wanted to talk to Charles but Charles quickly went to the enclosed outdoor courtyard. He needed air. He really wanted to take the mask off as well - it was getting sticky - but he didn't, because he didn't want to take any unnecessary chances. 

He went directly to a particular planter and pulled out a flask, took a long pull. Erik walked up behind him as he was doing this. "Hey," Erik said softly. The cuffs still dangled from one of his wrists.

It's hard to scare a telepath, but Charles was distracted. He nearly jumped. "Oh! Hello. Hi. Sorry. Just a nip of courage." There was color on Charles cheeks.

Erik waved it away. He'd seen people do a lot worse than that to be able to get through a shoot. "I just--wanted to say that I'm glad it's you, today," he said. "Louie--can be difficult, I know--"

"Difficult?" Charles hissed. "That man--" He calmed himself down with a effort, and a few more slugs from his flask. Erik just looked at him and Charles thought about what a shame it was that they couldn't have met under different circumstances. He really was a breathtakingly handsome man. Erik smiled and moved a little closer and moved his hand to the nape of Charles neck. Charles realized in that moment how long it had been since anyone had touched him that way, with any care at all. He shut his eyes for a moment and breathed in, feeling the sting of tears against the back of his eyelids. Maybe it was time to get out of this business. It was only ever supposed to have been temporary, but it had turned out to be harder to land a college teaching position than he'd thought. 

"Louie is going to want to redo the, ah, entry," Erik said in a gentle tone. "And probably film the fucking from a few different angles. You up for that?"

Charles exhaled as opened his eyes and gestured to his still-somewhat-erect penis. "Up? Most assuredly. Behold, the marvel of modern medicine."

Erik couldn't help but chuckle. "Would it help if - during - we played a game?" 

"Played a game?" Charles brow was furrowed. "Like twenty questions? I spy with my little eye - a bottle of lube?"

Erik laughed outright. "I was thinking something a little more stimulating," he said. "Chess."

Chess? Charles was at once thrilled and surprised and confused and experienced an intense feeling of deja vu. "Have we--discussed this before?"

"Not exactly." Erik's grin was too big for his face. "When I met you, when we shot that orgy scene, you made some crack about an English Opening and I thought you might play chess."

"Ha!" Charles wished he had a snappy rejoinder but the scotch was finally starting to soothe his mind and cloud his thoughts. "I'm very funny. In the past. Obviously."

"Obviously," Erik agreed dryly. 

"So - chess - while we're fucking?" Charles chewed his lip. "How exactly does that work?"

"Well, we'd each have to picture the board," Erik said, thoughtfully, as if he was just now working it out himself. "I'm not sure it would work at all, to be honest. But it seemed like you could use a distraction, if we end up taking a while to get this scene done."

Charles met Erik's eyes. "Let's do it," he said with a grin.

Erik hesitated. "Do you mind that I call you Frankie?" he said softly.

Charles swallowed. He knew what Erik was asking. "Frankie is fine," he said lightly as he grabbed and squeezed Erik's hand. He was not ready to say his name, even to this man, who seemed so - wonderfully out of place on an adult film set. 

**

It was a brutal workday by any standard, hot and dry as hell outside and with a noisy air conditioner inside that really only seemed to make Charles throat dryer and thirstier instead of cooler. 

Erik had unfortunately been correct - Louie wanted to re-do him putting on the condom and to add a line about not wanting to catch a disease from Magianto’s filthy ass--which Charles almost refused on general principle. Why should there need to be an excuse for a condom? But Erik gave him a crooked smile that made everything seem a little bit better and Charles stopped his complaint before it started. 

Not only did Louie want to film the fucking from several angles, but he also the insertion from multiple angles, and then he wanted to film several more positions - also from multiple angles. Fortunately the young PA, Hank, was very quick to bring a water bottle when either man needed a sip of water and with a spray bottle for when the lube needed a refreshing spritz. 

In short, it was much, much more work than Charles was used to. But the day passed in a pleasant haze right after Louie directed Doctor XXX to flip Magianto over and fuck him face-to-face because right after Erik had gotten his knees up onto Charles’ shoulders he huffed, “c4.”

Charles was puzzled for a moment and then his mind registered their earlier conversation in the courtyard - and then he laughed out loud as he realized Erik had begun a chess game with the English Opening. Louie glared at him for a moment and he quickly turned the belly laugh into something approaching an evil cackle. Erik was grinning up at him, clearly pleased. 

“c5,” Charles grunted (still grinding away physically) giving the usual response to an English Opening, assuming Erik was playing white. He debated whether or not he should for a moment and then created an image of their chessboard and subtly shared it with Erik’s mind. He didn’t usually out himself as a telepath unless there was good reason, but if he was supplementing what Erik was doing mentally anyway, perhaps it wouldn’t be noticed. 

Erik did not seem to notice. “b3,” he gasped, still writhing like a poor hero being ravished. Charles had to smother his giggle even as he registered and recognized the chess move Erik had made. 

“d6,” Charles gritted out in response, feeling like his thighs were about to give out. Fortunately Louie called stop for a position change and Charles withdrew his cock from Erik for the moment and wiped his forehead on his forearm. A chuckle escaped his throat as he thought about what they were doing. “It’s not as hard as I thought,” he admitted to Erik.

“Oh, you’re doing fine,” Erik smirked, his green eyes twinkling, with a friendly tug on Charles’ cock. Charles rolled his eyes at the implied pun but grinned and felt a kinship with this man as their eyes met--which was immediately followed by a pang as he wished he’d met him in _any_ other context.


	2. Second day of filming delayed

At the end of the shoot that day, a Tuesday, Erik hung around a bit outside the studio, smoking a cigarette. Even at 6pm, the August day was still plenty hot, well over 90 degrees Fahrenheit, so Erik was standing in the small amount of shade afforded by the building. 

Erik was hoping that he would run into Frankie and maybe they could talk, or go get a beer or something. Erik didn’t usually socialize with his co-workers that way, but Frankie had stood out to him since the first time they did that orgy movie together, about a year prior, and now after ‘working’ with him, Erik was even more intrigued. Not by the sex--that was just work--but it seemed Frankie had a brilliant mind and good sense of humor even though it seemed he hadn’t been having the best day. 

One of the crew guys brushed by him as Erik was lost in thought trying to remember what he had seen of Frankie’s work prior. Erik absent-mindedly watched the guy get into his car and just as the car was pulling out of the parking lot, Erik realized that was Frankie. Oh. 

He had been wearing aviator sunglasses, a baseball cap, and nondescript clothing on his slight frame - but Erik knew there was no way Frankie hadn’t seen Erik on his way to the car, and he hadn’t said anything. Erik tried not to feel disappointed as he carefully crushed out his cigarette and disposed of the butt in a nearby ashtray. Maybe Frankie was in a hurry. Or maybe he didn’t talk to porn people when he wasn’t working. 

Regardless, Erik couldn’t get his co-star out of his head as he drove home to his apartment in West Hollywood. He decided to make a quick detour to see his buddy Armando in Studio City. Armando worked for an adult DVD distributor and so had access to thousands of different movies on DVD - movies that cost upwards of $50 to buy, which was ridiculously expensive to Erik, but since those sales were how he made his money he didn’t bitch about it. 

But he wasn’t going to spend any money on it, either. 

“Hey, Darwin,” he greeted his buddy with an easy smile.

“The great Magianto!” Darwin greeted him, with a big grin. “How’s the new flick going? The superhero take-off? You got a title for that yet?”

“No title yet. First day of filming was today,” Erik responded. “Doctor XXX was a little cranky, but I think I can win him over.”

Armando chuckled. “I bet you can.” He gave Erik an appraising look. “Something I can do for you?” Erik only ever stopped by Darwin’s work to borrow videos.

“Well, yeah, I was thinking having some backstory on Doc might help with the whole ‘winning-over’ plan,” he admitted.

“I’m happy to lend it if we’ve got it,” Darwin replied. “What’s the guy’s name?” 

“Frankie XXX,” Erik responded. 

Darwin’s eyes widened. “Oh, lucky you! He’s pretty in-demand right now. Won an AVN award last year and everything.” Of course Armando kept up on the happenings in the adult video world - that was his job. 

“Well, he has a certain...appeal,” Erik admitted, feeling his cheeks grow hot at the admission.

A wide grin spread across Darwin’s face. “You’ve got the hots for your co-star,” he said, teasing.

Erik knew he was blushing but replied honestly, “I’m not sure about that, yet, but I would like to see some of his work if you’ve got it.”

“I think I do.” Armando typed into his computer and peered at the database. “I’ve got _Rent Boys III, Blondes on the Bottom,_ and _Wanted_. Frankie is in all of those.” Armando went into a nearby large supply closet lined with DVD-laden shelves and came out a few minutes later with the three videos in question. “I’ll need them back,” he said to Erik as a warning. “And don’t get any goop on them.”

Erik snorted. “Professional research, Darwin,” he said, although the grin on his friend’s face told him he might as well have saved his breath. He looked at the videos in his hands. “I don’t see his picture on any of these,” he said doubtfully. The covers were a collage of men in various sexual positions and Frankie’s distinctive facial features did not seem evident on any. 

“Nah, there’s something in his contract about not having his face on the DVD covers,” Armando replied. “He’s a pretty smart guy, apparently, actually reads his contracts and won’t sign them unless he gets what he wants.”

Erik wasn’t surprised about that, and it only added to his intrigue.

Armando pulled out the _Blondes on the Bottom_ DVD and pointed to the back of a man with what Erik could aesthetically appreciate as being a very well-rounded backside. “That’s his ass, though.” 

Well. Erik could get behind that. So to speak.

**

Charles tried to shake off the unpleasantness of his day as he drove home to the two-bedroom apartment he shared with his sister Raven in North Hollywood. Dealing with Louie might have been enough to make him quit the business, but fortunately Erik had softened the blow. So to speak. 

Charles snorted to himself that that was exactly the kind of comment Erik would have appreciated, even as it flew over the heads of everyone else on that damn set. Well--the PA Hank had seemed like an intelligent enough guy, Charles had to allow mentally, even if he didn’t have Erik’s skill for sniffing out innuendos. 

“Hi, honey, I’m home,” he called out as he entered the apartment. Their little joke. Raven grinned at him from where she was sitting - she had dragged the kitchen table to be directly under their single wall air conditioner in the living room. Charles was pleased to see that she had what looked like a class schedule open in front of her. 

“You picking out classes?” He said, going to the refrigerator for a soda. He really, really wanted a beer but that was only going to cause a fight with Raven here.

“Yes! I’m going to take Human Sexuality,” she said excitedly, and then laughed a little. “I wonder if there will ever be a Mutant Sexuality class,” she said with a snort.

“Raven, we are human,” he said tiredly as he flopped on their old but comfy couch. “At least human enough that the sexuality part shouldn’t need a separate class.” _I should know,_ he thought, but did not share that with Raven. 

She rolled her eyes at him. “I was kidding, duh.” 

Charles raised one eyebrow at her and then turned his head to stare at the turned-off television while he sipped his soda. He debated turning the television on but wasn’t in a hurry to do so. Their little air conditioner worked, but not super well, so it was still relatively hot in their apartment, certainly over 80 degrees. Apropos of nothing, he groaned.

Raven looked at him in surprise. “So...how was _your_ day?”

“Oh…” Charles sighed and looked down. “Spent most of my day at Starbucks, applied for a bunch of teaching jobs, too much coffee, same old thing,” he lied. After eighteen months of lying to his sister about what he did on certain days, the words rolled pretty easily off his tongue now. Although he really, really wanted that beer now. 

“Is Pierce going to give you any classes this semester?” She asked softly. Pierce was the local community college at which Charles taught, the only college which had been willing to hire him since he had to disclose his mutation on job applications. He’d been hired there three years ago to teach one class, and so far every semester since he’d been hired to teach the same one class - Biology 101. He tried hard not to feel like it was beneath him, but it was certainly not what he’d planned for his life when he’d started studying genetics at Oxford. At least by now he could teach it in his sleep.

“Yup,” he said, popping the “p”. “Biology 101. And, lucky me, this semester it’s a once-a-week class on Saturday mornings from 9am to noon.” He exhaled slowly. 

Raven stared. “That should be illegal. Isn’t that cruel and unusual punishment?” 

Charles chuckled despite himself. “Essentially.” 

**

Freshly showered that evening, Erik ordered some Chinese food to be delivered and put _Rent Boys III_ in the DVD player. He fast forwarded until Frankie’s first scene and then watched intently. This movie was less than a year old, he confirmed on the DVD cover. Frankie had long blond hair, well past his shoulders, but not quite down to his ass. He had a mischievous grin, and lips that were almost obscenely red which he bit and licked frequently - and they hadn’t even gotten to the sex yet. His eyes - Erik cursed the director for not showing more close-ups of Frankie’s face, because what Erik most remembered about him after meeting (more than meeting) him in person was his incredibly blue eyes, but the color wasn’t coming across in this video. 

And yet -- Frankie was not classically beautiful, Erik had to say objectively. His nose was a little too big for that. But his face was so expressive - the on-screen plot had finally moved on to sex, and Erik didn’t look away from Frankie once. He was--magnetic, Erik thought, and had to laugh at himself for the thought. Of course he compared everything to magnets. 

As he kept watching, in one scene where Frankie was getting fucked in the ass by a well-built Latino, he thought Frankie’s hair slipped for a moment and Erik suddenly realized - that’s a wig. It’s a good wig, but it’s not his real hair. The more Erik thought about it, the more it made sense - how would all that hair have fit into the bald cap Frankie had been wearing for the shoot today? 

When Frankie’s scenes were over Erik put in the next DVD, _Blonde Bottoms_. There was not even an attempt at plot in this movie--it was just scenes of blond men getting fucked in the ass. Erik fast-forwarded to Frankie’s scene and he saw the hair was identical - same wig - but in this one Frankie had a little bit of ginger facial hair. _Maybe he’s a redhead under that wig,_ Erik thought. He tried to picture a head full of red hair and couldn’t.

The third movie, _Wanted,_ had the highest production value so far. Erik started to fast forward but when he realized there was a real plot and Frankie was at the center of it, he started it over again. It was a story about an obsessed man kidnapping a rock star and making him be a sex slave. There wasn’t a lot of genuinely rough sex in it - Erik already knew Frankie well enough to know that wouldn’t tolerate that - but there was a lot of tension and anticipation, threats of violence and rape that never really materialized, and a very sexy soundtrack that made even a jaded porn actor like Erik get an erection. And - Frankie could really act, were those real tears?

Erik had to pause the movie, torn between his physical arousal and the disturbing thought that Frankie had actually been in distress for those crying scenes. Fortunately his dinner arrived and he ate it while watching broadcast television. But after...Erik bit his lip and turned _Wanted_ back on. He needed to see how it ended at least, he told himself. And...it had been a while since Erik had masturbated, he usually saved that energy for work. But...damn it, he couldn’t help but jerk it to Frankie’s trembling lip and tearful blue eyes…

**

Filming for “Untitled XXX Superheroes,” as everyone seemed to be calling it, was supposed to pick-up again the Friday after the first day of shooting, but Charles got an email the afternoon of the day he was supposed to be resume filming explaining that since the air conditioning in the studio was broken, filming was going to be delayed until it was fixed, probably early next week.

 _Thank god for_ that, Charles thought. He hadn’t been particularly looking forward to the filming, although a part of him had been anticipating some banter and maybe resuming the mental game of chess with Magianto - _Erik,_ his brain corrected. But it was good to know that the producers didn’t expect the actors to fuck in a studio with a broken air conditioner when it was 100 degrees outside. Even though the call time had been 6pm, for the anticipated evening shoot, it was still ridiculously hot outside. And Raven was nowhere to be found, which was fine with Charles, who promptly decided on a nap on the couch. 

**

Erik got the email about filming being delayed and felt incredibly frustrated and annoyed by it. First of all, since he tried to avoid substance use at all if possible, he didn’t take Viagra as most porn actors did, and instead he ensured that he’d be able to perform by avoiding ejaculation for a few days before his film shoots. The last time he’d come had been Tuesday night watching _Wanted_. However...he had been watching Frankie’s part of all three films obsessively and had googled Frankie’s professional bio - which he was sure had been entirely fabricated, but there were some great pictures - and had been exerting every bit of his self-control not to touch himself. The ultimate result was that he felt incredible sexually wound up and he had REALLY been looking forward to ‘working’ with Frankie that evening. Dammit. 

Erik thought about jerking off again but he felt too restless for that. He knew that Monday would be the next opportunity for filming to resume - after all, it was unlikely that the studio owner would pay a union HVAC specialist double to come do a repair over the weekend - so he could get off several times tonight and still be good to go for Monday. He needed to get out of his apartment - the oppressive heat had kept him inside for most of the past three days. He thought it might be nice to have sex with a real person for a change - maybe someone who could get his mind off Frankie. 

Erik hadn’t been to a gay bar in a while, but one of the reasons he’d picked this neighborhood is because there were plenty within walking distance. In fact, there was a Grand Opening somewhere nearby if he recalled correctly - that reminded him of an English Opening, which reminded him of Frankie…

Erik shook his head to expel the idea, but thought he would go there tonight. Cock’s Crow, he thought it was called. He headed towards the shower.

**

Charles woke from his nap with a start. It was dark outside which meant it was after 8 o’clock, and Raven still wasn’t home. He wasn’t too worried about her - she was an adult, after all, and she had plenty of friends with whom she could be socializing. He sent her a text message just to be sure though, and she replied that she was at the Hollywood Bowl seeing a concert and she would be back late and she thought she’d told him about that?

Maybe she had. Charles didn’t know or care much, really, as long as she was safe. He did, however, very much want a drink. 

They didn’t keep alcohol in the house because in recent years Raven had been giving him a really hard time whenever he drank. He had gone overboard a couple times, true, but Charles thought that she was a little paranoid considering he’d never actually gotten a DUI or gotten arrested or gotten raped or anything - although he had woken up not knowing where he was a couple times. And more than once had vomited on their doorstep. And he had a tendency to forget…

Charles put the negatives out of his mind. Class didn’t start til next Saturday, he had free time, he was young, he hadn’t had a drink in at least two days and he wanted to go out, goddammit. He usually just headed to West Hollywood and walked into the first bar that caught his fancy, and it seemed like a fine plan tonight. After a shower, of course. 

**

Charles parked in a public lot for a price that was probably way too high and started walking down Santa Monica Boulevard. He passed several gay bars and was about to swing back to peruse those options again when he felt the slightest psychic tug from a little farther up the street. He frowned that he couldn’t pinpoint exactly from where this tug originated. Someone he knew, maybe? 

The feeling seemed to be coming from a bar called Cock’s Crow. It was a little busier than Charles usually liked his bars - after all, he wanted to be able to order drinks easily and frequently - but he wasn’t used to denying his telepathic urges, either. He went inside. 

The bar was very sleek and modern, with metal panels on all the walls and a polished concrete floor, and had loud music thumping, always that. It was fairly well-lit inside, and of course nobody smoked in bars anymore, so Charles was able to breathe freely - and the smell...Charles inhaled. He loved the smell of so many clean male bodies, with the musk of sex right there. So much more genuine than the latex/dust/mildew smell of most porn sets. 

He ordered a scotch and turned around to check out the scene. He wasn’t necessarily opposed to hooking up with a random hottie, but it wasn’t his first priority tonight. However...a figure standing near the door to the outside patio caught his eye. A good-looking man, wearing a silky-looking black button-down shirt, tall with high cheekbones and a truly enviable jawline...Charles started as he realized he knew the man--it was his co-star in the movie, Erik. 

_What a coincidence,_ he thought, but as he thought about it more, maybe it wasn’t such a coincidence. Both of them were gay men who unexpectedly did not have sex on camera tonight; they were both at the grand opening of a hot new gay bar...and there was the matter of the mental tugging Charles had felt. Charles smirked and started to make his way towards Erik. 

Since he’d had a drink, his telepathy was a little less under control than it usually was, and even though he wasn’t trying to he could hear an echo of Erik’s thoughts as he approached. Erik had spotted him and noticed that he was making his way over to him, and a slow smile spread across his face. _That’s right, come to Papa,_ Charles heard mentally. _I don’t even want to know your name, just come here and let me use you._

Charles’ steps slowed as he got closer to Erik and he frowned. This didn’t seem like the same person at all. Clearly he _was_ the same man, but Charles was in no mood for an anonymous fuck - he did that for a living, thank you very much. He expected that Erik probably hadn’t recognized him as he wasn’t wearing either his blond wig or his bald cap that he’d been wearing the last time Erik had seen him-- _Well, technically, it was the baseball cap,_ his brain smugly informed him. He quickly took another gulp of the scotch to stave off the stab of guilt he’d felt for avoiding Erik on his way out of the studio on Tuesday when Erik so clearly wanted to talk to him. But--should he feel guilty, if _this_ was all Erik wanted?

Two feet in front of Erik, Charles gave him a tight smile and turned to head off in another direction. Erik’s face went from smug arousal to confusion in a split second and two steps later Charles felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around while taking a sip of scotch. “Yes?” he said casually, half-turning his head to his back.

“Hey handsome,” Erik said smoothly, with a practiced--and admittedly very sexy--grin. “I was looking forward to--” Charles didn’t get to hear the rest of his pickup line because he interrupted Erik.

“I thought you were someone else, sorry,” Charles said in a clipped tone and turned back around. 

“I bet I am who you thought I was,” he heard murmured in his right ear, very close to his right ear. He shivered despite himself. Dammit, the man did smell good. 

“Maybe you’ve seen my work,” Erik continued in a silky voice. “Exotic Bad Boys IV, perhaps?”

Charles snorted into his scotch. Erik should have quit while he was ahead. “Let me give you a tip, my friend,” he said turning around to face Erik front on. It was crowded enough in the bar that they were nearly touching. “Don’t start your elevator pitch with anything followed by a Roman numeral, hmm?” He looked up into Erik’s eyes and was startled to see how green they were. Did he miss that on Tuesday?

Erik looked at him and his sly smile melted into stunned recognition. He even seemed to get pale. “You,” he whispered. 

Charles raised one eyebrow. “Me,” he agreed, taking a last sip of his scotch and holding up the empty glass. “Buy me another?”

Erik nodded dumbly and started to head back towards the bar. He stopped after he had taken one step and whirled back to Charles. “You won’t go anywhere,” he said.

He didn’t exactly phrase it as a question, but he was waiting for a response. “As long as you don’t take too long,” Charles said, running a tongue along his lower lip. 

Erik stared at his tongue and nodded curtly, pushing his way back towards the bar in a way that might not have been completely pleasant for anyone who happened to be in his way. 

Charles felt a little bit bad about manipulating Erik that way. Okay, not really. 

Erik did return quickly, and Charles accepted the drink with a brilliant smile. “Thank you, Erik,” he said and watched as the color rushed back to Erik’s face with a vengeance. 

“I--I didn’t recognize you,” Erik stammered, looking at Charles hair, specifically. Charles natural hair was brown and slightly wavy, just long enough to cover his ears. 

Charles cocked his head at Erik because he felt like this was a third facet of the same man, this poor besotted fellow. Not the sinuously sexy porn star - not the bantering, clever, and considerate colleague - but someone solicitous and sweet, someone who all but ran to get him a drink. 

That was a pretty potent combination. 

“I keep my natural hair out of sight at work,” Charles replied lightly. “I don’t want to be recognized.”

“By who?” Erik asked bluntly. 

Charles shrugged and took a slow sip of his scotch before replying. “Family, friends...students.” He debated before adding the last word but the alcohol made the decision for him.

“Students? You’re a teacher?” Erik said incredulously. 

Charles tried not to be offended. “College professor,” he said sharply.

Erik grinned at him. “So you really are a doctor,” he said.

“Ahh…” Charles took half a step back. They _were_ standing awfully close. “...sort of. I still need to finish my dissertation before it’s official.”

Erik stepped in closer than before. “Do you want to get out of here?” he said. His eyes were smoldering and there was no doubt about what he wanted.

Charles considered how to reply. “Where did you have in mind?” 

Erik touched Charles’ temple and watched his fingers as they stroked down a lock of Charles’ hair. “I live nearby. Walking distance.”

Charles licked his lips. “I’m not in the mood to fuck,” he said bluntly, making unwavering eye contact with Erik. 

A split second of surprise crossed Erik’s face but Charles didn’t see disappointment or annoyance as he’d expected. 

“That’s fine,” Erik said, as he pulled back a bit and his eyes softened. “I’d just like to get to know you better.”

Charles was surprised and pleased by his response, but still, better safe than sorry. “Ah. Well then. Umm...not your place, okay?” he said, smiling to take the sting out of his words. “But--maybe a coffee shop, somewhere less noisy?”

Erik forced a smile and nodded as Charles killed his second scotch then smiled at Erik brilliantly and led him out of the bar.


	3. After the Cock's Crow

Outside, it was starting to cool down, finally.

Erik understood on an intellectual level why Frankie wouldn’t want to go back to his apartment - he didn’t know Erik that well, and Erik knew he could come across as physically intimidating. He wanted to have sex tonight, but clearly Frankie didn’t - and really, it wasn’t hard to decide that he’d rather spend time with Frankie than try to fuck some other guy. He’d just have to behave himself.

He clasped his hands behind his back so they wouldn't wander and walked next to Frankie. Neither of them spoke for a while, although Erik thought it looked like Frankie was going to a couple times. 

"The problem with coffee shops," sighed Frankie finally, "Is that they don't serve alcohol."

Erik very deliberately did not offer up his apartment as a venue again. Instead, he commented on the second thought that crossed his mind when Frankie spoke. "You _do_ have a British accent," he observed. "I couldn't hear very well in the bar, but I thought maybe."

Frankie gave him an adorable sideways smile that almost destroyed Erik's fragile self-control. "I admit I do," he said calmly. "But it seems I'm not the only one?"

Erik shrugged. "I have lived in several different countries; I've been told my accent is hard to place."

"Hmm."

Erik wanted to ask Frankie one hundred questions but he couldn't seem to articulate even one. Finally the shorter man sighed. "Please quit calling me that," he said, almost as if it hurt him to say it. "My name is Charles."

Erik felt extremely confused. "What? Wait. I haven't called you anything. Although I have been thinking of you as..."

_Frankie,_ he heard in his mind. In Frankie's voice. No, Charles' voice.

Erik's jaw dropped and he stopped walking as he looked at the man next to him. "You're a telepath."

Charles smiled tightly and seemed to be waiting for something else from Erik. Erik only felt amazement, and kinship, and a huge burst of attraction for his co-star. "That's amazing," Erik breathed, with wide eyes.

Charles blinked. "Oh. It is?"

Erik now had a huge grin plastered on his face. "Don't you think it is?"

Charles was smiling back, now. "Well, it's certainly handy for some things."

Erik noticed that where they had stopped was right in front of a mostly deserted coffee shop. He indicated the place to Charles with raised eyebrows and sent the image of a single question mark to Charles mentally. 

A look of surprise flew across Charles' face and then he laughed heartily. "Well, you do catch on fast! Sure, this is fine." And Erik was once again treated to Charles mega-watt smile. 

Charles fit him better than Frankie did, Erik decided as they sat down at a small table. 

Charles raised one arched eyebrow at him. "So glad you approve," he murmured. 

Erik shook his head. "It's a good thing I've not had any thoughts tonight that I'm ashamed of," he said calmly, coolly gazing at Charles and deliberately _not_ searching his memory of the evening for any stray embarrassing thoughts. 

"Oh really? Not twenty minutes ago you didn't seem to care _what_ my name was," Charles said, pursing his lips at Erik, daring him to respond.

Oh right. Erik remembered the thought he'd had when he'd seen Frankie--Charles--walking towards him at the bar but he only spared the barest of one shoulder shrugs for it. "I just wanted to fuck, before I knew it was you."

Charles paused at the comment, with a strange look on his face before he gently smiled again. "Can I buy you a coffee?" 

**

Once they both had coffees, Erik said, "So, why 'Frankie'?"

Charles grimaced like he didn't really want to answer and even looked around to make sure that nobody was eavesdropping. "It's a variation of my middle name, and it reminds people of a penis."

Erik laughed loudly at that. "Yeah. There are a lot of Peters in this business."

"And Rods, and Randys, and Johnsons," Charles added, chuckling. 

"And 'XXX' means - redacted?" Erik smiled. 

"Well, aside from the obvious rating association, my last name actually does start with an X," Charles admitted, blowing on his coffee. Erik tried not to think about the round red circle of lips across from him while he did that. "My working name is little too close to reality for my comfort, actually. I wanted to be Frankie Asterisk, which I thought was funny on multiple levels, but nobody producing the films got the joke."

"That's very clever," Erik admitted. "Although it's doubtful that anyone in the adult entertainment business reads Kurt Vonnegut."

Charles cocked his head at Erik and something in his blue eyes softened. "Well," he said, almost to himself. 

"So," Erik cleared his throat, "Frankie XXX is 24 years old, a natural blond, and grew up in Orange County, where he surfed and was passed around the boys' football team like a party favor until he was finally old enough to start working in porn." Erik summarized the bio he'd read for Frankie XXX online. "Is any of that true?"

"Complete fabrication," Charles said cheerfully. "I'm 29, born in New York but spent most of my life abroad, and being passed around any athletic team as a party favor has only ever been a fantasy. And possibly a movie I'm in negotiations about making," he added with a grin sly enough that Erik didn't know if he was kidding or not. 

“I’d watch it,” Erik said and then wished he hadn’t. 

Charles was looking at him appraisingly and Erik found himself wishing that he was passing muster. Charles licked his lips. “So, Erik Magianto Max Alwayshardt, what’s your story?”

Erik took a sip of his coffee and shrugged. “No big secrets. I got into porn a few years back, before the Registration Act, actually, and so now…” he trailed off. “There are worse jobs to have,” he finished with a somewhat forced grin. 

Charles was looking at him intently. “The Registration Act? So you are…?”

“A mutant, yes,” Erik confirmed. 

Charles looked around quickly and lowered his voice. “Should we be talking about this here?”

Erik frowned. “Why wouldn’t we? There’s nobody here, but even if there was I’m not ashamed of it.”

There was in fact a woman absorbed in her laptop a few tables over and a male barista who was reading a book behind the coffee counter, but neither of them was within earshot of the conversation. 

“Well then...what’s your…?” Charles looked at him with guarded but eager blue eyes. 

“My mutation?” Erik said, a little louder, feeling the old resentment being stirred up but trying to let it go, for now. For once. He closed his eyes for a moment and felt around him for metal, then softly chuckled to himself. 

“The drawback you mentioned about coffee shops…” he said and heard Charles gasp as he found the metal flask in Charles pants pocket with his mind and drew it out with a slight rustling of fabric. Without touching the bottle, he unscrewed the cap and poured a little into Charles' coffee, which ended up being everything left in the flask. “Now you have Irish coffee.”

Charles was grinning hugely, gazing at the display, and his breathing was becoming more rapid. Erik met his gaze and saw the unmistakable look of desire. 

“Maybe we should go back to your place,” Charles breathed.

**

Erik was a complete gentlemen until they reached his apartment, but as soon as they walked in the door he pressed Charles to the wall in a desperate kiss. 

Charles reciprocated for a brief moment but then turned his head to break the kiss. He looked up at Erik through thick lashes. "I don't usually - exchange fluids," he murmured, with an apologetic smile. 

Erik pulled a few inches and looked at the shorter man incredulously. "You don't _kiss_?"

Charles bit his lip. "I know, it's a little..."

_Paranoid. Ridiculous. FRUSTRATING,_ Erik's mind supplied. 

"...Unconventional," Charles said after a slight hesitation. He didn't betray any response to Erik's thoughts, although Erik guessed he'd certainly heard them. He probably just wasn't surprised. He was probably used to leading men around by their cocks. 

Erik was fully prepared to argue the logic of Charles' position on kissing when Charles suddenly inhaled like he'd just remembered something and put his hand flat on Erik's chest. "May I...have...a drink?" He said it with such a wide-eyed innocent gaze that Erik could barely believe this was the same _literal porn star_ he'd met a few days ago.

"Uh, yes, sure," Erik said, forgetting whatever it was he'd been thinking about as he tried to recall what he had to offer in the way of beverages. He didn't usually drink, but Darwin had left a couple beers in the fridge a few weeks ago when he'd come over to game for a while - and Erik thought he might have a bottle of white wine he'd gotten as a Christmas present somewhere in the back of his pantry.

Charles brightened. "White wine would be lovely," he said.

Bemused, Erik walked to the pantry to get the wine that he really hoped was there and took an extra second to lean against the counter and get his mind in order. Charles made him feel--out of control, and he wasn't entirely sure if the telepathy was behind that or not. The mixed signals were driving him a little crazy because he was almost desperately interested. Unfortunately, Charles didn't seem to be returning his interest at the same level, but fortunately, he didn't seem to be offended by Erik's rampant thoughts. Erik resolved to back-off and let it be up to Charles to decide when he wanted something more than talking.

Erik did find the wine, and a glass too. He poured a generous glassful and took that and the bottle to the living room. Charles had seated himself on Erik's black leather sofa and was looking around Erik's apartment in wonder. "You have a nice place," he said, seeming surprised. 

Erik did have a nice apartment, a fairly large one-bedroom with an open floor plan on the twelfth floor. It had a balcony off the living room that had a gorgeous twinkling city view towards downtown. He had dark hardwood floors and his walls were painted a dark magenta, and there were several tall bookshelves that were crammed full of books. The main feature of his living room (besides the black leather sectional sofa) was a 60-inch flat screen television that had cost as much as a car. He also had several game systems neatly organized beneath the television. Everything was clean and uncluttered, organized. Erik liked it that way. He liked that he made enough money to afford a nice apartment and furnishings in a popular location, too, even if he had to compromise a bit to get all that. 

All he said to Charles was, “Thanks.”

"What's it like to watch porn on _that?_ " Charles said, inclining his forehead to the television with an impish grin as he accepted the wine glass from Erik. 

Erik sat down on the other end of the sofa from Charles and laughed. "Everyone's first question," he said. "I don't watch a lot of porn, though."

Charles arched one eyebrow at him as his gaze flicked to the three DVDs on the coffee table. The titles to all three were plainly visible.

Erik willed his cheeks not to flush. "Professional research," he said smoothly. 

Charles smiled at Erik again, a warm and genuine expression. He kicked off his shoes and tucked himself into a ball, wrapping his arms around his legs, and put his chin on one knee, one hand still holding the wine glass. "Tell me the sad story of how you got into porn," he said lightly to Erik as he took a sip of his wine.

"You assume it's a sad story?" he said, returning Charles' smile. Charles just gazed at him and took another sip of wine. "Maybe I just got into it because I liked to fuck."

Charles mouth quirked. "Maybe," he said, taking another sip of wine.

Erik didn't say anything for a while, taking Charles's question seriously and thinking back to when he started working in the adult film industry. 

"Would you believe..." Erik looked at Charles to gauge his reaction to Erik's next words. "Four years ago, I thought I was straight?"

Charles didn't comment but his eyebrows raised considerably. 

"I met a woman who did adult films--well, we were dating--well, we were fucking," Erik admitted, his fingers absentmindedly carding through his hair. "I was--between jobs, at the time, and my prospects weren't great. She suggested that I make an audition tape--a sex tape--with her, and she gave it to a director friend of hers. He said he could use another guy in a film, but it was a gay film. I turned him down at first, but a month later I had run out of money and was about to be evicted, so..." Erik trailed off, remembering, looking away from Charles. "My first movie, I just had to let a guy blow me. I figured I could do that, and it would keep me in my apartment for another month." 

Erik rain his hand through his hair again, self-consciously. "It was easy, really easy, and on a time versus money measurement, it paid better than anything else I had ever done." _Anything legal,_ Erik thought, then remembered that his audience was telepathic and snapped his eyes to Charles. Charles was gazing at him, very enraptured in the story, and didn't react if he'd heard Erik's thought. No matter, Erik decided. 

"Of course, the next month I needed money again, and that time the only role available was something that required a little more...interaction," he said delicately. 

Charles snorted, startling Erik. "Don't start using euphemisms now," he said. "Your blunt vocabulary is part of your charm."

Erik narrowed his eyes at Charles, not sure if he was being sarcastic. "You don't like the way I talk?"

"On the contrary," Charles said, finishing his glass of wine. His speech seemed a little slurred. "I like the way you talk very much." He gave Erik a come-hither look. 

Well, Erik had fallen for _that_ trap before. "Well, that's good," he said lightly. "I'd hate to think I was offending you by overusing the word fuck," He took his time saying the last word. 

Charles' eyes became darker as he dragged a finger artlessly over his lower lip.

Erik looked at the wine bottle and hesitated. "Would you like some more wine?" he said, after a moment. He had a feeling Charles would say yes.

Charles bit his lip. "Maybe - half a glass," he suggested. Erik poured, his mind carefully blank.

"So..." Erik looked at Charles and turned his words back on him, "Do I get to hear the sad story of how you got into porn?"

Charles gave him a coy smile with a slight frown in it and extended his leg until his socked foot was brushing Erik's thigh. "Do you want to, if it really is a sad story?"

"Of course I do," Erik put his hand on Charles foot and squeezed lightly. 

Charles eyes fluttered. "Mmm," he said, slouching further so his foot pressed farther towards Erik. 

Erik snorted. He'd be damned if he'd give a guy a footrub before he got laid.

Charles was giving him a slightly cranky look now. It was rather adorable. "You never finished your story," Charles pointed out. 

"Sure I did."

"No, when you left off, you were still straight," Charles pointed out. "Even though you were engaging in homosexual acts on camera." He finished his half-glass of wine. 

"Well, I realized pretty quickly that I could be just as attracted to men, and most women don't want to hook up with a man who makes his living working in gay porn." Erik shrugged. "So maybe I'm gay by default."

"You don't miss women?" Charles asked. 

Erik asked himself the same, sometimes. He hesitated. "I don't know. Men are--easier. Present company excepted," he said significantly, raising an eyebrow and shooting Charles a glance out of the side of his eyes. 

Charles liked that, Erik could tell. The corners of his mouth quirked upwards and he stretched, now essentially horizontal on the couch. "Come here," he said to Erik.

Erik looked at the telepath thoughtfully. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea," he murmured, but he did start to stroke Charles' ankle a little more slowly and deliberately. 

Charles actually _pouted_. "Why not?"

"You're quite drunk," Erik pointed out. His hand seemed to have a mind of its own, though, as it reached Charles' knee. 

Charles pulled his legs back towards himself and turned his body around so that while he was still horizontal, his head was now in Erik's lap instead of his foot. "I feel sexy when m'drunk," he said, with a half-smile, gazing up at Erik and moving his head in a manner that...

Erik hastily put one hand under Charles' head to keep it from pressing directly on his cock. With his other hand, he stroked a piece of Charles' hair back into place. "But you're not," he said, as kindly as he could.

Charles stilled and frowned at him, a real frown. 

Erik continued stroking Charles' hair. "You are very sexy, Charles, and I don't think I have to tell you how much I want you. But not when you're like this."

Charles sat up so quickly that he almost knocked Erik in the forehead with his chin. "Well," he said. "If you don't want to fuck me when I'm drinking, then you probably won't fuck me at all."

The words hurt Erik a little, not for himself, but for what they said about Charles. He tried to keep his voice calm and steady. "Except next week," he reminded Charles. "At work."

Charles looked at him, a flat, dead look. "You think I won't be drunk then?"

Erik swallowed and said something he knew he shouldn't, but some part of him wanted to press on. "How long has it been since you've had sex sober?"

Charles glared at him. "Fuck you," he whispered, and his eyes filled with tears. 

_Oh fuck._ Erik lunged towards the younger man, who fell back on the sofa in surprise and probably with no small dose of fear. Erik twisted one hand in Charles hair and started kissing and biting down down his jawline. Charles had started to jerk away and cried out at Erik's unexpected reaction. Erik pulled back to look at Charles' face and saw the tear-streak across his cheek. "Fuck," he breathed and traced the tear stain with his tongue, his hips rutting desperately against Charles. After a moment, he shuddered and went very still, his weight still heavily on Charles. 

_ohfuckohnoohfuckohno,_ his mind chanted and Erik felt his cheeks burning with shame. 

Charles didn't seem to know what to do. "Did you...?" he asked, confused. 

Erik shook his head in a "no" motion, against Charles neck. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. He couldn't bring himself to get up off of Charles, though. 

Charles awkwardly patted him on the back. "I'm fine," he said reassuringly. "I'm--not entirely sure what just happened, though."

Erik would have rather died than explain at that moment, so he just stayed on Charles, turning his head to the side to rest it on Charles' chest, tucked under his chin. 

He felt Charles sigh, but the man did not seem to be in a hurry to push Erik off him. "Do you want to hear my sad porn story?" Charles said after a few minutes.

"Sure," said Erik, not moving. His voice felt rusty. 

Charles opened his mouth to speak and at that moment his cell phone rang. It appeared to be in his left front pants pocket, which pleased Erik because it meant Charles could get to it without moving Erik. Charles did manage to maneuver the phone out before it stopped ringing. He looked at the phone and frowned at it. "Don't recognize..." he muttered, but answered it anyway. 

Erik didn't want to, but he peeled himself up off Charles as Charles listened to whomever was on the other end of his phone, his eyes growing almost comically wider every few seconds. Charles was slowly sitting up himself. "Godammit, Raven," he finally said, gritting his teeth. "No, we'll talk about it later, and I'll be there as soon as I can." He disconnected the call and sat on the sofa with his eyes closed for a moment, swallowing once. 

"Is everything okay?" Erik ventured.

Charles exhaled and rubbed a hand on his face. "No, things are definitely not ok; my little sister has been arrested, and I have to leave now to go bail her out."


	4. Picking up Raven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Light bondage within

Well, that certainly changed the mood. Erik was a little relieved, actually; this new complication took attention away from his recent - thing. 

Charles stood and immediately sat down again. 

Erik realized why a split second later. "You're too drunk to drive," he said slowly.

Charles shook his head vigorously. "No, I'm good. I just need to remember how to get to the lot where my car is parked from here." He looked at Erik beseechingly. "Can you...?"

"Drive you to bail out your sister? Yes, of course," Erik said, standing.

"No, I just need to get to my car," Charles mumbled, as he tried standing again. He stayed upright this time, but not without some significant swaying.

A white-hot bolt of anger shot through Erik. "If you think I'm letting you drive anywhere right now, you're crazy." He grabbed his wallet and car keys and then grasped Charles by the arm, none too gently. "Let's go."

Charles swallowed and nodded, allowing himself to be tugged along out of Erik's apartment and to the elevator. "Where are we going exactly?" Erik asked Charles once they were in the elevator. 

"Hollywood police station," Charles mumbled. He was looking at the floor. 

Erik's mind was seething as they got to his car and pulled out of the garage. He hadn't asked to be responsible for another person, let alone a person with a drinking problem who wouldn't even put out. But he also wasn't going to be responsible for letting that person drive and potentially ruin his own life with a DUI conviction, or worse, hurt or kill other people. 

Charles shrank smaller in his seat and Erik felt a stab of guilt as he remembered Charles was a telepath. Erik exhaled slowly and tried to calm his mind. 

"I'm sorry," he said after a few minutes to Charles, watching the road.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Charles said in a small voice. "You're right, in everything you're thinking. Thank you for doing this."

Erik nodded, not looking at Charles. He didn't think he could handle a lip-quiver, or worse, from the other man at that moment. 

They pulled up at the station, walked into the lobby and up to the window. "I'm here to bail out Raven Xavier," Charles said to the officer behind the glass.

Erik's head snapped to Charles. "Did you say Raven Xavier?"

Charles looked at him in surprise, and then grimaced. "Oh, God, please don't tell me you know her."

Erik didn't respond, but he looked thoughtful.

"Mr. Xavier? Please sign here and here, and remit $240. We accept cash or check," the bored officer behind the counter said. 

"Ahh...do you take credit cards?" Charles said hopefully. The man gave him a look.

"I've got it," Erik said, pulling out his wallet and peeling several large bills out of it and handing them to the officer. 

"Erik, _no_ ," Charles said firmly. "I've imposed on you enough for one night. I'll find an ATM. Or, Raven can spend the night in jail; it won't hurt her."

Erik shot a hard look at Charles. "You sure about that?"

Charles hesitated. Erik hoped he was thinking of some of the recent articles about the treatment of mutants at the hands of guards and other inmates he'd read recently. 

In fact...Erik turned to the officer. "Are there any other mutants who were arrested tonight?" 

"Just Ms. Xavier," the guard said. He returned Erk's hard look. "And I put her in a cell by herself." 

Erik nodded, grimly. He was grateful to the man for understanding the plight of mutants, but far too humans had that persepctive. 

After a few minutes, a young blond woman was led out into the lobby area wearing handcuffs.

"Charles, you don't understand--" she started to say and then stopped when she saw Erik. "Erik?" she exclaimed in surprise, as the officer who had led her out uncuffed her.

Charles looked back and forth between Erik and Raven. "You two - know each other?"

"We've met at a couple mutants' rights protests," Erik said, as he held the door open for the three of them to leave the station, nodding good night to the officer behind the window. 

Apparently that wasn't the right thing to say. Charles looked at his sister in anger. "Raven! You know how I feel about that! Is that what tonight was? Did you lie to me about being at a concert?"

"No, I didn't," she retorted, spitting out the words. "Sean Cassidy was performing at the Hollywood Bowl. It wasn't a protest."

Sean Cassidy was getting fairly well-known as a versatile and powerful vocalist, and he'd just come out as a mutant a few months prior. 

"Okay," Charles said. "So are you going to tell me what did happen tonight?" They were all in the car by that point, and Erik hesitated. 

"Sorry to interrupt, but where do you live?" Erik said. Charles impatiently shot him a glance and suddenly Erik had in his mind the way to Charles' apartment in North Hollywood. "Got it," he said and started the car.

Charles twisted around to face Raven in the back seat. She sighed. "Okay, so, me and Emma and Azazel have had tickets to this concert for months, right? We bought them right after Sean Cassidy came out, not that I didn't like him before that. Anyway, the ticket-taker asked to see our IDs and then said Azazel and I weren't going to be admitted because of the 'nature of our mutations'." Erik could see her making sarcastic air quotes in the rearview mirror. 

The Mutant Registration Act had been tacked on to the Patriot Act that the Unied States congress passed after the events of September 11, 2001. The MRA required all fifty states and the federal government to put an indication and a brief description of any significant mutations on the front of identifying documents, like drivers' licenses or passports. This was despite the fact that no mutant connection had been found in relation to the attack on the twin towers, or even was seriously suggested; the proponents of the MRA had just found an opportune political climate to forward their agenda. 

Erik gripped the steering wheel as anger flooded through him. "Not Emma?" is all he said. Charles gave him another look, which Erik figured probably translated to him being surprised that Erik knew Raven's friends, too. 

"No." Raven slumped in her seat. "It must be nice to have two mutations, so you can get away with only Registering one of them."

"I'm not following," Charles said, looking back and forth between the two others. 

"Emma is a telepath, but she's only Registered for being able to change her body into diamond," Raven explained glumly. "She Jedi-mind-tricked the ticket guy into letting me and Azazel in to the concert."

"You got _arrested_ for that?" Erik said as Charles simultaneously said, "She's not fully _Registered?_ "

Raven somehow managed to parse both questions. "Erik: no, not exactly. Charles: what the fuck? Why shouldn't she get away with it if she can? It's certainly made your life a living hell."

And then Erik winced as she added the words: "Besides, Erik's not Registered, either."

Charles snapped an accusatory glare at Erik. He shot a glance back. "I hope your not expecting me to apologize," Erik said curtly. Charles pressed his lips together.

Raven leaned forward. "Okay, enough about me for a while. How do you two know each other?" and then, louder, "Charles, are you _drunk?_ "

Raven started a tirade about Charles drinking but Erik was distracted by Charles' voice in his head. _She can't know how we really met, Erik, please. She doesn't know what I do._

_I don't want to out you, but I'm not going to lie for you, either,_ Erik responded mentally. _Also, you should probably know that she_ does _know what _I_ do for a living, before you start getting too creative._

Charles looked at Erik in absoute befuddlement. Raven finally stopped her tirade with "...because I care about you, you big stupid dork."

"I care about you, too, Raven," Charles said softly, reaching back to squeeze her knee with his left hand. "That's why I let you interrupt my date so we could come bail you out of jail."

"Date?" Raven said, voice trailing off. "Um, Charles...well, nevermind, we'll talk about it later."

Erik was surprised by what Charles had said, too, but he felt a tiny bit pleased about it as well. He cleared his throat and aimed for a teasing tone, glancing in his rearview mirror. "So, Raven, what made them finally realize that you were a dangerous threat who needed to be locked up?"

She snorted. "Azazel took me backstage to meet Sean Cassidy, and I guess security didn't like that very much. Azazel is a teleporter," she added to Charles.

"I remember," he said irritably. "I don't forget everything you tell me." He looked back at her. "I'm still not happy about you hanging out with him, though. He left you to get arrested while he teleported away?"

There was an abrupt silence and Erik got the distinct feeling that a telepathic conversation to which he was not privy was taking place between the siblings, but he could guess that Raven was suggesting that Charles was a hypocrite to criticize her when he was dating a porn star. Erik wondered what other dysfuntions they had. 

He pulled up at the apartment building to which Charles had given him mental directions. The building was not much to look at from the outside, Erik thought, and the neighborhood was downright scary. He was surprised. Surely with Charles'...business assets...he made more money than Erik did, yet he lived in a worse place and in a worse neighborhood?

Erik was becoming used to Charles reading his mind and he wasn't surprised to see Charles begin to respond to his thought when abruptly Charles shut his mouth. "I--erm. Just realized. My car is still in West Hollywood."

Erik was already well aware of that. He spoke slowly, as if he was just thinking of the words as he was saying them, while the three mutants got out of his car. "Well...I could crash on your couch here tonight and drive you to get it tomorrow, or I can drive you back tonight and you can stay at my place, and then you can drive back tomorrow. Or you can figure something else out entirely. One thing that is definitely _not_ happening is you driving yourself home tonight."

There was an awkward silence as Charles rubbed his forehead tiredly. "Umm...ok. Fine. I--would you mind waiting here while I walk Raven inside?" 

So he wasn't being invited in. Erik gave the barest nod of assent. 

Fortunately Charles was back outside fairly quickly with an overnight bag. Erik's heart started pounding despsite himself when he realized that signified that Charles intended to spend the night at his place. Charles gave him a quick shy grin as he got into Erik's car for the third time that night. 

If Erik had been a praying man, he would have prayed for strength.

"So..." Charles exhaled when they were back in the car again. He put a hand on Erik's thigh, just above the knee, idly moving his thumb against Erik's jeans. "So you're not Registered, and yet you are not afraid to talk about your mutation in public. Isn't that a bit--contradictory?"

Erik found the hand on his leg extremely distracting. "Not really. People rarely ask for my ID if we're just having a conversation."

"But how do you have a bank account, an apartment, a car, work, without valid ID?" Charles pressed. "Do you have a fake ID?"

Erik shook his head. "I used to, but I don't really need it. My world is mostly cash-only."

Charles nodded. "That's why you had enough cash at the police station. By the way, can we stop by an ATM?"

Erik didn't respond to that, but after seeing where Charles lived he realized he had no intention of accepting any money from Charles. 

"It's not that bad," Charles said with a chuckle. "We get by. We could actually afford a better apartment, now, but..." he trailed off.

"But what?" Erik prompted, although he suspected he knew. 

Charles grimaced. "But, right about the time the property manager sees our IDs, suddenly the apartment is not available anymore."

It's exactly the kind of thing that usually provoked an angry response from Erik, but instead he put his right hand on top of the hand Charles had placed on his knee and squeezed in sympathy. 

"Where does Raven work?" Erik suddenly asked. He'd met her at a few protests, thought she was cute and passionate, but she was always with the devil-guy, Azazel. Aside from her name and her opinion on the Mutant Registration Act, he really didn't all that much about her.

Charles shook his head. "She doesn't. I want her to focus on school. She's a student at CSU Northridge, majoring in criminal justice."

"Interesting," Erik commented. "She wants to be a cop?"

"Well, she _wants_ to join the military," Charles sighed. "But I know if she joined up she would be sent to fight in Afghanistan, and now there's rumors about Iraq. I told her that I would support her through college if she would stay in school."

With each dribble of information Erik was getting about Charles' life, the man was beginning to make more and more sense to him. He probably did make more money than Erik, but with two people and college tuition and probably student loan payments due--

"Loads of them," sighed Charles. 

The intrusions into his brain were getting to be a bit much. "Can you--you know--control that?" Erik said. 

"I'm so sorry," Charles said, genuinely contrite. "Yes, generally I can stay out of your head, unless you have particularly loud emotions or if you deliberately reach out to me. It's just--harder to stick to boundaries when I've been drinking."

"That's probably true across the board." Erik said with a smile.

There still some pieces of the Charles puzzle missing, Erik thought, then he remembered part of their conversation from earlier that evening--well, yesterday, at that point, considering it was past 2am now. "Did you say you were a college professor?" Erik asked. 

Charles barked a laugh. "Yes, I guess I did. I might have been stretching the truth a bit, there. I teach one freshman-level class at a community college."

"Well that qualifies," Erik said. It also made Erik realize that Charles probably worked in porn because it was the best of several bad options. One class at a community college would not pay anywhere near the income Charles needed to make to pay his expenses, and he was going to have a hard time finding any other work if he had to disclose being a telepath to jobs he applied to. If he did find a job where an employer was willing to tolerate his/her mind being read (or worse: some telepaths had mind control abilities, too), it probably wasn't work that paid well, or that anyone else wanted. 

What a position to be in. No wonder he had control issues. 

"Ok, I caught that part," Charles groaned. "You think I have control issues?"

Erik chuckled lightly to himself. So much for mental privacy. "I think it's pretty clear that you do," he said, thinking of Charles' mixed signals.

"Well," said Charles, clearing his throat. "That's--very astute of you," he finished, self-deprecatingly. 

Erik was just parking his car in his parking garage at that point and he turned to give Charles a big grin. Charles was grinning back, and Erik could just see the curve of his cheek and was overcome with a desire to kiss him. Instead he got out of the car. 

**

Up in the apartment, he went to his linen closet and got some blankets and a spare pillow and brought them to the couch. Charles looked at the items with big blue eyes and then looked up at Erik. "Thank you," he said, accepting the items, seeming--resigned?

"Or," Erik said as his mind pulsed at him _Erik you idiot don't say it don't say it_ "Or, you could--sleep with me." He swallowed and resolutely did not look away from Charles as he made the offer. 

Charles bit his lip and blushed. He nodded without speaking and Erik felt his heart pounding as he indicated the way to his bedroom. 

Erik's mind raced as he followed Charles down the short hall to his bedroom. He wasn't sure what Charles acceptance signified; he certainly wasn't going to presume sex. So that meant he had something to take care of. 

"Make yourself at home," he said to Charles. "I'm going to have a quick rinse off." Probably he wasn't hiding anything, but it was true enough. Before he could see any indication on Charles' face of _what_ he thought, Erik turned on his heel and went to the bathroom at the other end of the hall. 

He let the water in the shower wash over him while he jerked off in as efficient a way as possible. He tried not think about Charles, but he couldn't help but envision Charles' face wrapped around his cock as he came, seeing those big blue eyes filled with tears--

Erik made more of a sound than was strictly necessary as he came, hard, and he hoped that Charles was doing his best to stay out of his mind. At least Erik did feel better though, and more importantly, he felt ready to chastely sleep next to a man who, as far as he could determine, was the closest thing to a sex demon that Erik had ever met. 

He walked back down the hall to his bedroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist and saw Charles eyes get wide as he entered the room. He felt a smug sense of satisfaction about that. "I figure you've seen it all anyway," he said casually over his shoulder as he pulled a pair of boxers out of his dresser drawer and, facing away from Charles, stepped into them and dropped the towel.

"I can appreciate a view more than once," Charles commented. He was already in the bed under the covers. Since Erik's king-sized bed was pushed against the wall, and Charles has chosen the side that was not pressed against the wall, Erik had to either crawl over Charles or crawl up from the foot of the bed. 

_What the hell,_ he thought, and crawled over Charles, flashing him a cheeky grin as he did. Serves the man right for teasing him all night. 

"It's _hard_ \--" Charles began and then stopped. 

"What's hard?" Erik said then suddenly Charles had rolled on top of him. 

"Exactly," the telepath murmured. He pressed a gentle kiss to Erik's temple, and then another to the top of his cheek. "I was going to say that it's hard, for a telepath, not to read someone's mind when they are masturbating."

"Really? How unfortunate," Erik said casually, angling his head so Charles could keep kissing his neck or his face, if he wanted to.

"But also--the other thing," Charles said, a hitch in his breathing. Erik knew exactly what he meant, could feel Charles' erection pressing into him. "What other thing?" he said innocently. Mind blank.

Charles bit him, now, on his neck, briefly, and then again. "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about," he said between bites. 

"Nothing's coming to me," Erik said. So to speak. "What you're doing feels good, though. Could I trouble you for a footrub?"

Charles glared at him and he looked so adorable that Erik had to chuckle. "Come now," he said, with a grin. 

"That would be nice, but someone--" he ground his hips into Erik from above, to make his point "--is not getting the hint." Charles rolled off Erik and faced away from him, lying on his left side.

Erik relented and reached over to Charles, spooning him from behind, noticing for the first time that Charles was naked. He kissed the nape of Charles neck and smoothed a hand over Charles' thigh and across to his belly, stroking his soft skin so that his fingers dipped towards Charles cock with each stroke but didnt quite touch it. 

"Is that a little better?" he breathed into Charles ear, taking his earlobe in between his teeth for a moment. Charles head rolled back and he moaned a bit in response. Erik positioned his teeth to bite, gently, at the juncture of Charles hairline and his neck as he kept the same caress going on Charles' lower abdomen with his right hand. 

Charles breathing was more and more pronounced and he started making little soft noises. Erik kissed and then gently bit at the juncture between Charles shoulder and neck. He was quite enjoying this, and barely had an erection. 

Charles' body started bucking a little. "Please," he croaked.

Erik breathed hotly on Charles shoulder. "Please what?"

"Please touch my cock," Charles whispered desperately. 

Erik hummed into Charles shoulder. "Mmm, I don't know, you've kept me on edge all night--seems only right to return the favor." 

Charles turned his head and bit Erik on his jawline. "You want me to jerk off?" he said, almost petulantly.

"No," Erik purred. "In fact--" With a little concentration, Erik's his mind found the empty metal flask in the pocket of the pants Charles had left on the floor. He mentally pulled a chunk off it and brought it to Charles' left wrist, which was flung out over the edge of the bed. He fashioned a crude but smooth bracelet and wrapped it around Charles' wrist, and used that to tug Charles' hand under him towards Erik at his back. Erik moved his right hand up to Charles' chest to help keep him from falling onto his face as his left arm was tugged resolutely under him. Erik then stroked his hand down Charles' right arm and brought the smaller man's right wrist back behind him to join his left and sent the metal around both wrists. 

Charles did not seem to have any problem with this minor bit of bondage, considering the way he was rocking his hips and whimpering. "Please, fuck, please, Erik..."

Erik still did not touch Charles' cock, instead stroking Charles' chest and neck, not neglecting his nipples, up to his face. He covered Charles mouth with his hand. "Lick," he breathed into the smaller man's neck before he bit, again, a little harder than he had been biting before. 

Charles quickly did so, laving his tongue over the surface in front of him and covering Erik's palm with saliva. "Good boy," Erik whispered as he moved his hand down and finally wrapped his right hand around Charles's cock. He pressed his body close against Charles and moved up a bit--in case Charles has any ideas about his captured hands being used to grasp Erik's now hardening cock--and used his left arm to draw Charles' head close to his chest. With a practiced hand, he started stroking Charles' cock while retaining a tight grasp on Charles' head with his left arm, as he continued biting and sucking on Charles's neck.

He was careful not to leave any marks that would linger more than a few hours; that was just professional consideration. 

Charles made absolutely wonderful sounds as he approached climax, and it was only a minute or two before Erik felt the tell-tale, oh-so-familiar feel of come spurting from Charles' cock as Charles cried out. Erik immediately dissolved the metal cuffs and returned the resulting blob of metal to the side of the flask - he could always reshape it later. 

He turned a very boneless Charles onto his back and kissed his fluttering pulse point, kissed his jawline--he wanted very much to kiss him on the lips but he respected Charles' boundaries. 

Charles looked at him with wide, glassy eyes. "I--you--fuck," he said. 

"That's the kind of quality discourse I've come to expect from you, Doctor XXX," Erik said with a grin.


	5. Rent is due

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning in chapter end notes

Charles was not in the bed anymore by the time Erik awoke the next morning. 

Erik was not surprised, exactly, but he did feel a little disappointed. Morning sex would have been nice, but he was quickly learning not to have any expectations where Charles was concerned. 

Erik got up and looked around his apartment and found that there was no sign of Charles, no note, nothing. He frowned, and his warm feelings about the night before became suddenly suspect. Did Charles regret what happened? Did Erik take unwelcome liberties in making the metal cuffs?

Erik rubbed a hand down over his forehead as he remembered that Charles had been drunk, drunk enough that Erik didn't want him to drive home, and then Erik had gone and had sex with him anyway. Charles probably thought he was a huge hypocrite, at best, and at worst--

There was a knock on his door. Erik's heart leaped and he practically ran to open it.

"Hello my boy," said the smiling face of Erik's landlord, Sebastian. Oh. Right. 

There had been a lot of people applying for Erik's apartment when he first moved in two and a half years before, and Sebastian told Erik that he could get the apartment at a discount if he agreed to give Sebastian a blowjob once a month. At the time, it wasn't a big deal to Erik; he already worked in porn, and he figured he could always move out if it got bad. 

Then the Mutant Registration Act passed, and there was not a vacant apartment to be found in Los Angeles that wasn't checking identification after that. After all, nobody wanted to rent to a mutant who had the power to rip a building up off its foundation, and 'Mutant' wasn't a protected class under Fair Housing laws. Erik quickly realized he would not be able to move again as an unregistered mutant, someone without ID, although he probably wouldn't be able to move even if he Registered, considering the nature of his mutation. He had to start paying his rent in cash when his bank accounts were closed, which Sebastian sweetly agreed to accept, as long as Erik understood that there would be a slight increase in Sebastian's expectations of what Erik would do for him each month. 

And now Sebastian was here to collect, and Erik was standing in his boxer shorts. 

"Ah, hello, Sebastian," Erik said, glancing down the hallway to see if he could get a glimpse of Charles. No luck.

"Is this a good time?" Sebastian asked solicitously. Erik didn't need to ask what for.

"Well, I just woke up, but give me 45 minutes or so to shower and get ready and then I'll come up to your place, okay?"

Sebastian smiled wide. "See you soon," he said over his shoulder as he walked towards the elevator. 

Erik exhaled in frustration. Well, there was no sense in putting it off. 

He showered and prepared himself for anal sex with a butt plug. It's not that Sebastian wouldn't prep him--as unpleasant as he was, he didn't seem to be a _literal_ sadist--but the whole thing was over more quickly when Erik prepared himself in advance, and since he started doing this part on his own about a year before, Sebastian now seemed to expect it. 

He reminded himself of the positives as he twisted the butt plug in his ass, feeling the familiar burn--Sebastian never kept him very long, usually less than 30 minutes; he always used a condom for penetrative sex; he was clean; and he was very discreet. At least, the few times Erik had run into him when other people were around, Sebastian never even hinted that anything inappropriate was happening. 

The one unpleasant thing though - Erik twisted his face into a grimace and put it out of his mind. There was no point in dwelling on the negative. 

He went to Sebastian's apartment wearing a T-shirt and sweats. There was really no point in dressing up for the man. As soon as he knocked, Sebastian opened the door. "There you are," he purred. "Are you looking forward to having my cock in your ass today, my boy?"

And there it was. Erik did not try hide the look of disgust on his face as he flatly said, "Sure." In the beginning, the first few times, he had tried to feign enthusiasm but he quickly realized that was not what Sebastian wanted, and the landlord would just keep pushing and saying uncomfortable things and _touching_ until he got what he wanted: Sebastian wanted the person he was fucking to feel shame and disgust. It wasn't like Erik had to fake that. 

Sebastian's eyes crinkled in delight. "Well, let's not waste any time then! Get on your hands and knees."

**

Erik showered again, after, and used his mental trick of envisioning the water washing away any bad feelings until he felt like himself again. Erik was sure he was fooling himself on some level, but everyone in his line of work had some kind of coping mechanism for bad days, and Erik didn't enjoy the feeling of being drunk or on drugs. He did like a few other means of escape, though, too, and he thought idly that he would like to go on a long motorcycle ride soon, and maybe Charles would like that...

Charles. Erik closed his eyes and enjoyed the warm association he had with that name, until he remembered that Charles had left this morning without leaving a note, and he probably felt very taken advantage of, and Erik didn't even have his phone number. 

So much for washing away bad feelings. Erik got out of the shower feeling almost desperate to reach Charles. He thought about just driving to his house (whose location was very clear in Erik's mind still) but decided that was too stalker-like. He decided to call Emma Frost to get Raven's phone number, once he remembered that Emma's phone number was scrawled in his day planner from a mutant rights rally they'd attended together about four months back.

Fortunately, Emma didn't think there was anything weird about him calling her up out of the blue to get Raven Xavier's phone number. "Good luck," she even said cheerfully as she disconnected the call. Oh - she probably thought he wanted to ask her out. 

Erik dialed Raven. "Hello?" 

"Hi, Raven, It's Erik, Erik Lehnsherr."

She was utterly silent for a moment. 

"I, uh, bailed you out of jail last night?" He immediately closed his eyes and regretted saying that.

"Uh-huh," she said cautiously. "Well, um, If you can give me a couple weeks--"

"No, no, sorry. That's not--I was just hoping you could give me Charles' number?"

"How did you get my number?" she asked slowly. Erik had a feeling she was stalling.

"I got it from Emma Frost."

"Oh, right." she paused. "Hey, speaking of Emma, are you going to the mutants rights rally in Redondo Beach Thursday night?"

"Uh--well, this is the first I've heard, but maybe. But--could I maybe speak to Charles?"

Erik heard Raven inhale sharply, and then heard: "Oh, hey, I'm losing you--" before the call disconnected. 

Erik gritted his teeth, having no doubt that the 'dropped call' was a deliberate action on Raven's part. He called two more times, but only got her voicemail. 

The worst part was that he had no way of knowing if Charles had asked Raven to be a cock-block or if Raven was just trying to keep Evil Porn Star Erik away from her sweet virginal brother. Erik snorted. 

After much consideration, he decided to just be patient. He would see Charles on set on Monday. It wouldn't kill him to wait that long. Anyway, he still had that DVD of _Wanted_ in the living room...

**

Monday came much too slowly for Charles. For once, he was actually looking forward to work, mostly just looking forward to seeing Erik, and then he got an email Monday morning that indicated he wasn't going to be called to the set on Monday evening after all - something about cast changes. Charles spared a moment to fear that he or Erik was being replaced, but surely he would have gotten a different email if he was being replaced and he couldn't imagine anyone kicking Erik out of an adult film. The man was practically a Greek God, and unlike _some_ people didn't seem to have a bunch of hang-ups that impeded filming. 

At least, that's how Charles assumed he was perceived by his colleagues. He was probably the Shannen Doherty of porn. 

Charles chuckled to himself at that thought and then another email caught his eye--the Dean of the College of Science at CSU Northridge?

As Charles read the email, his heart leapt into his throat. 

_Dear Mr. Xavier,_

_You have been referred to me by Dr. Essex at Pierce college. We have found ourselves with no appropriate faculty available to teach an upper division genetics class this semester, which unfortunately starts next week. Dr. Essex has a lot of faith that you would be perfect for this position. I'd like to discuss it with you in person, if you are available, and since time is short for us I was hoping that could be today. Would you be able to meet with me this afternoon around 4pm?_

_Dr. Michael Cooper, Rm 233_  
Dean of the College of Science  
California State University Northridge 

Charles heart was pounding. Was he being offered a teaching position, in his specialty, that he hadn't even applied to? Starting next week?

He immediately replied to confirm the interview and texted Raven with the good news. She texted back with a bunch of silly symbols which he frankly didn't understand but he took as positive sentiments. Okay, so it was only one class, but unless it was Saturdays mornings, he could teach that in addition to the class he was already teaching at Pierce, and, mostly importantly, it _wasn't porn_ and it was a step closer to where he wanted his life to be. 

He wanted to call Erik, and hesitated. He didn't have Erik's number. Now he regretted not having taken liberties and digging through Erik's things to find a pen on Saturday morning - although that still wouldn't have given him Erik's number, but then at least Erik would have his. He thought about it for a minute and then texted Raven to see if she had Erik's number, but she didn't respond. Hmm. He didn't know if he could find Erik's place in West Hollywood again--he'd had to wander for quite a bit Saturday morning before he'd found his car, actually--but maybe he could drive around West Hollywood thinking Erik's name loudly and maybe Erik would respond...

Charles shook his head. Was he a telepathic stalker? Ridiculous! He'd see Erik again, eventually. They were making a film together, after all. 

**

Erik showed up on set a full forty-five minutes before his call time, thinking maybe Charles would come early too. He was immediately crushed to find out that the filming schedule had been changed and Charles was no longer called today. 

"Why didn't you email me?" he said irritably to Louie.

"Well, _your_ call didn't change," Louie pointed out, for once in his life sounding like a reasonable human being. Erik gritted his teeth and tried hard not to say something rude.

"What did change?" he asked instead.

"Magianto's sidekick, Alex Havcok or what the fuck--he had to--um--leave the project. But the good news is, we got a big name to replace him, but Hugeman's not exactly sidekick material. so we had to do some rewrites."

Hugeman. "Hugeman Jack?" Erik said cautiously. 

"In the flesh," he heard a gravelly voice intone from down the hall. "You can call me Logan, though, I forget to answer to 'Hugeman' mosta the time. I'm playin' Wolfman or some shit. Don't really care." The huge, muscle-bound man was naked and lighting a cigar. He flicked his eyes at Erik. "You are?"

"Max," Erik said, trying to figure out if he felt intimidated or scared. "Playing Magianto. Are we fucking?"

The other man shrugged and just puffed his cigar, looking at Erik appraisingly. 

"You're big," Erik blurted. He meant it more in the "I am a fan" sense, although he wasn't, really--it's just that everyone knew Hugeman Jack. He also did straight porn, a distinct rarity, and ever since an ABC special expose on the adult film industry had featured him, even the mainstream media knew who he was. He was well on his way to becoming a legend, like Peter North or Ron Jeremy. 

"You're not so small yourself," Logan responded, nonplussed, shooting a glance at Erik's cock. 

No wonder the script had been rewritten. With a star like Hugeman Jack, the film would make money no matter what the plot was. Erik appreciated that fact intellectually while also thinking, fuck, I am not mentally prepared to have sex with this man today. 

Because it was well-known that Hugeman didn't bottom. There were also rumors that Hugeman could be a bit of an animal, and for someone who didn't usually bottom, Erik's poor ass had had a rough week. If Hugeman was going to top him--

It was Louie, actually, who put Erik's mind at ease. "Ok, guys, sorry for the changes but this is going to work out great for everyone, I promise. You still have a couple hours before we're ready to shoot anything--waiting for the sun to go down--but this will be nice and easy today. You two are like--buddies, both good guys--Wolfy will change sides but that's later--Wolfy, you're giving Magianto a handy, first, and then Magianto is is gonna suck your cock, you come on his face, yadda yadda."

"Piece of cake," Logan grunted. Erik just nodded. That sounded tolerable, and certainly better than what he'd been fearing. 

**

Charles left the Northridge campus feeling like he was on cloud nine. The conversation with the Dean had gone exceedingly well, and he was going to teach a class at a four-year college, an upper division class, a subject that interested him. The dean hadn't even blinked when he'd asked if being a mutant was a problem--the dean thought that made him 'eminently qualified' to teach a class on genetics. Also, the dean had confided that one of his close friend's children had just come out as a mutant. Charles was glad that the dean was open-minded, but he wished the dean didn't have to talk about his friend's child like it was such a huge scandal. 

He really, really, REALLY wanted to share his good news with Erik, and he decided to stop by the studio where he knew Erik was filming tonight even if it was a stalker thing to do, after he stopped at home to change. It wouldn't do to show up in a suit; he would be teased mercilessly. 

With afternoon traffic, and the fact that he had to go back for his baseball cap and sunglasses, Charles didn't get the the studio until half-past 7pm. He thought it was very possible that Erik had started filming, but maybe not yet. He knocked on the exterior door to the courtyard, making sure all visible brown hair was tucked up into his hat, when the PA Hank answered it. 

"I'm sorry, this is a closed--" the nervous young man began, until Charles took off his sunglasses. "Oh, Frankie! Sorry. Uh, you're not called today...?" Hank began anxiously shuffling through the papers on the clipboard he was holding in his hand. 

"Yeah, man, sorry - I just wanted to talk to Max really quick if that's okay?" Charles was speaking in his Frankie/Valleyboy voice, of course, and he did his best to make his eyes big and supplicating.

Of course it worked; it always did. "Uh, yeah, sure, come in," Hank muttered, holding the door open. "I'll get him."

Charles waited feeling only a little bit nervous until Erik appeared, completely naked. Charles heart jumped when he saw the man's face light up upon recognizing him, but Charles could tell he was about to call out the wrong name--

 _FRANKIE,_ he reminded Erik mentally, still grinning, just feeling delighted to see Erik again. 

"...Frankie." Erik said after a split second hesitation. They both just looked at each other for a moment and then started both talking at the same time.

"Saturday morning--" started Erik as Charles said "I just wanted to--"

They both stopped, awkwardly. Charles was the first to speak. "What about Saturday morning?" 

"Ahh..." Erik shot a glance to Hank, who was fiddling with some papers nearby. _Can we talk this way?_

"I heard there were some changes on set," Charles said out loud, while he mentally responded, _I usually try to keep my telepathy to myself unless there's a good reason to tell people. It tends to make them nervous. Hank will know something's up if we just sit here staring at each other._

"Yeah, Alex Havcok had to drop out," Erik responded out loud to Charles words. _I don't know; I could justify staring at you for a while_.

Charles smiled a little at Erik's thought. _I think I have a better view right now._ Out loud, he said, "So who is your new sidekick going to be?"

Carrying on two conversations was challenging, just like Charles, come to think of it. "Apparently they are doing away with that role completely."

Charles grinned at Erik's thought, even if it hadn't been articulated in words. _I actually came by because I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner tomorrow night._ "No sidekick? So who are you fucking today? Do you have a hot solo scene?"

 _I would love to go out with you tomorrow night._ Erik felt like his heart might burst out of his chest. Out loud, he said, "Hugeman Jack."

Charles eyes got big right as a gravelly voice emerged from the dressing area. "Somebody talking about me?" He strolled out into the courtyard, naked as the day he was born. 

Charles looked at the man in disbelief. "Logan?" he said.

Logan walked closer and peered at Charles. "I know you. Wait--Frankie? Frankie X?"

Charles nodded and grinned and to Erik's extreme discomfort he jumped to give Logan a huge hug. "Oh my god! It feels like years since I've seen you! How are you?"

"Better seeing you," Logan responded, gruffly but affectionately. "Good to see you, kid. Hey--are you in this? Are we fucking?"

Erik suddenly felt like he might be sick. 

Charles eyes shot to Erik in alarm. "Ah, not really sure," Charles replied, blushing. "I haven't gotten the re-writes yet." It went unsaid that in a porno with only three cast members, no two members of the cast were _not_ going to have sex with each other. 

The three of them stood awkwardly for a moment and then Logan looked between Charles and Erik for a second. "I'll, uh, let you finish your conversation," he said, walking back towards the dressing area stiffly. "See you soon, Frankie." Erik didn't know how he even moved with all those muscles.

Charles immediately reached to put an affectionate hand on Erik's shoulder. "Hey. You ok?"

Erik wanted to be okay, desperately wanted to be cool and understanding and not painfully curious about however it was that Charles and Logan knew each other. And, he really wanted to kiss Charles. At least Logan had gotten a hug. 

Charles smiled at him and his blue eyes seemed to soften as he stepped forward and reached for Erik and gently pressed their lips together. For some reason he also pressed two fingers to his temple, Erik noted irrelevantly. _So Hank won't see,_ Erik heard Charles' whispered words in his mind. Erik had suspected Charles could do some mind-control in addition to telepathy; it seemed he was right. 

Instead of dwelling on that, Erik focused on enjoying the kiss. It wasn't an open-mouthed kiss, but Erik still savored it as long as he could. It was nice, so much nicer than the rest of his evening would be.

Charles broke the kiss and only the slightest frown flickered across his face to betray that he'd picked up on Erik's thought. "I'll pick you up tomorrow night?" he breathed softly up to Erik. Erik nodded, not trusting his voice. 

Then Charles left, out the courtyard gate to the parking lot. Erik yelped "Wait!" and ran after him - buck naked, into the parking lot located off a busy street. "We should really exchange phone numbers," Erik said. Charles, laughing, agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for non-consensual sex (no force or violence, though)


	6. The Date

"Cut," said Louie, exasperated. This was the eighth cut in the past half-hour. "For the last time, guys, this is a friendly fuck. You guys are supposed to be pals. You want to talk this out, or keep pretending like there's not some fuckin' problem?"

Erik and Logan looked at each other. The main problem was that Logan was the absolute last person Erik wanted touching him right now, and he knew that was patently obvious to anybody watching. 

Logan sighed. "Max," he said, inclining his head towards the courtyard. He strode that direction, clearly expecting Erik to follow.

_Like I'm a fucking dog?_ Erik thought, but did his best to keep his seething thoughts under control. 

Logan pulled a cigar out of somewhere and lit it. He took a few puffs and rubbed his forehead. Erik just stood a few feet away, looking away from the larger man. 

"Bub, I know I'm not your cup of tea, and believe me, you ain't mine, either," Logan finally said. "But I have to say I'm impressed how well you keep your dick hard." He gestured at Erik's cock. 

Erik blinked. That wasn't what he'd been expecting. 

Logan glanced at him askance. "Viagra?"

Erik shook his head. "Ah, no. Actually it's a function of my mutation."

Logan slowly raised his eyebrows and turned to give Erik a harder look. "Your mutation is keeping your dick hard? Well, fuck, pal, you're in the right line of work."

Erik snorted. "My mutation is controlling metal. I can push the iron in my blood towards my penis and keep it there, not quite indefinitely, but for a long time." Erik decided not to mention that keeping it hard had nothing to do with how much he was enjoying himself or not, or how likely he was to ejaculate. 

Logan puffed out some air. "Well, fuck me." Erik tried to think of a response that capitalized on the double entendre of Logan's comment and couldn't think of anything. Probably because all his spare blood was in his cock. 

"I'm not after your boyfriend, you know," Logan said quietly, after a moment. "I met Frankie a while back on a film where some of the guys were--well, some guys aren't always real nice to the bottoms, y' know? Frankie was new to the biz at the time and I kinda took him under my wing, showed him the ropes." Seeing that Erik didn't seem entirely reassured by Logan's words, he added, "I'm straight, you know."

Erik snorted. "Yeah, I used to be too. But you fuck men for a living. How can you still say you're straight?"

"What my body does isn't the same as what my heart wants." Logan looked at Erik. "And fuck you for trying to tell me what I am or am not." 

Erik thought about that. "Sorry," he said after a moment.

"Don't worry about it," Logan puffed on his cigar and gave Erik a conspriatorial wink. "We muties have to stick together, you know."

Erik frowned. "You're a mutant?" He'd read several articles about the man, and Erik had seen the ABC expose - Hugeman Jack being a mutant is something Erik definitely would have remembered.

"Yeah." Logan flicked some ash off his cigar. "I'm not out, not to the general public. But I've been thinking about coming out soon."

"You really should," Erik urged. "It would mean a lot to other mutants."

"Would it? So they can be lumped in with a porn star? I don't know about that. Anyway, I don't wanna be a role model. I just wanna be me."

"You know, there's a Mutant Rights rally in Redondo Beach Thursday night," Erik said, remembering what Raven had told him. "You should come. I've been to several, and it's really--it's great, to be around other mutants, to not have to hide." Erik looked at Logan critically. "What's your mutation? Super muscles?" 

Logan snorted. "Enhanced senses--hearing and smell, mostly--and I heal fast. Real fast. And, I'm over 100 years old." He grinned at Erik, whose jaw dropped at the last statement. He continued, puffing on his cigar. "Now, are you gonna let me jack you off so it looks like you are halfway enjoying yourself, instead of looking like I'm murdering your family?"

Erik chuckled despite himself. "Yeah, I think I can do that." He caught Logan's eyes deliberately. "Thanks."

Logan stubbed out his cigar. "Don't mention it. I've been in this biz a long time, bub. And one thing I know is nobody likes to fuck someone they're pissed at." He grinned at Erik. "And I think I will come to that Mutant Rights thing on Thursday."

**

Erik woke up early on Tuesday morning, bolted awake out of a dead sleep when he realized that his date with Charles was that night. Charles, who apparently didn't hate him even though he'd left so abruptly on Saturday morning; Charles, that beautiful man who ran hot and cold and drove Erik crazy with mixed signals had asked _Erik_ out to dinner and Erik hadn't been on a date in at least four years and oh my god was he ready for this?

Erik expelled his nervous energy by going to the gym, by cleaning his apartment, and then found he still had time left over. He had an idea and pulled out a box of safety clips, sat down and started crafting. It took a few hours, but it was very calming work and when he got done Erik was proud of what he had made. He almost put it in a drawer with the words _too soon, too soon_ thrumming through his mind but hesitated and put it in his pocket instead. 

**  
At 7pm exactly, there was a knock of Erik's door. He opened it with his power and said, "Hello, Charles." 

Charles looked good enough to eat. He was wearing a blue blazer over a black button-down shirt over dark blue jeans, and was grinning wide at the way Erik opened the door. "Do you know how incredibly sexy it is when you use your power?" 

"Really? I'll have to use it more, then," Erik murmured, as Charles greeted him by kissing him on the cheek. 

Charles took a step back from Erik and swept his eyes over the taller man. "I'd like to tell you how good you look, but if I'm afraid if I start, we will never get out of here," Charles said with twinkling eyes.

That didn't sound too bad to Erik, but he grinned back and let himself be led out of his apartment and down to Charles' car. 

**

They pulled up at a restaurant in Beverly Hills about 30 minutes later. "'The Stinking Rose?'" Erik laughed as he read the name of the garlic-themed restaurant. "And the kissing ban remains."

Charles laughed at him as they walked inside, letting the valet park the car. "I guess I should have asked if you like garlic first."

"I do," responded Erik, "And just for the record, it won't make me want to kiss you any less." 

Charles shot him a brilliant smile and gave his arm an affectionate squeeze just before they were seated. 

Erik couldn't wait anymore before bringing it up. "You left Saturday morning without saying good-bye," he blurted out. "I just--you weren't upset or anything, were you?"

Charles gave Erik a puzzled frown. "No, not at all! I'm just not a fan of--awkward mornings," He said, finishing somewhat shyly and looking down at his menu. Then he looked at Erik quizzically. "What do you think I would have been upset about?"

"Oh," Erik chuckled self-deprecatingly, "Any number of things. Which I am hoping you are not trying to read in my mind," he added quickly. 

Charles shook his head with a small smile. "No, I am keeping out."

There was a silence while both men looked at their menus. After the waiter had taken their food orders, Charles ordered two glasses of champagne. Erik decided not to say that he didn't usually drink. 

While they waited for the champagne to arrive, Charles confided, "It wasn't my intention to ask you out yesterday at the studio."

"Oh?"

"No, I acutally just wanted to share some good news I've recently gotten with you. But it was so hard to talk to you there, and I thought how nice it would be to have you all to myself for an evening--and isn't that what a date is?" Charles was looking over the table at Erik, smiling softly, one lock of brown hair hanging out-of-place over his impossibly earnest gaze. In the flickering candlelight of the restaurant, Erik thought he looked like a kind of angel. 

"I suppose it is," said Erik. Many thoughts were flying around his mind, as not a small part of him had tensed up when Charles said 'good news'--Erik didn't like surprises, and what was good news to one was not necessarily good news to another, in his experience. But he was also thinking about Charles' definition of dating. "I haven't been on a date in a really long time," he admitted. 

"How long?" 

Erik narrowed his eyes and looked at Charles thoughtfully. "Is this the kind of thing we are supposed to talk about on a date?"

"I don't know," Charles admitted, "But you brought it up, and I'm curious."

The waiter arrived with champagne just then. "Saved," Erik said to Charles with a wink. "So...what is your good news?"

Charles grinned, openly happy. "You are looking at the newest member of the CSU Northridge faculty." He lifted his glass, and Erik did the same.

"Charles, that's wonderful!" Erik said enthusiastically.

"Well, it's only one class, but it's Tuesday and Thursday mornings, so I can still teach at Pierce on Saturdays," Charles said excitedly. "I was apparently referred to the position by a fellow professor at Pierce, Dr. Essex, whom I don't actually think I've met, but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouse," he continued. Erik smiled to see him so animated as Charles continued. "I suppose I shoud send him a thank you card, or something. Anyway! It's not enough that I can quit--the business, not yet. But it is an upper-division class in my area of concentration, genetics."

"Do you really want to quit--that?" Erik asked. The business.

Charles seemed surprised that he would even have to ask. "Of course. Don't you?"

Erik thought for a moment about his mutation, being unregistered, his apartment, his landlord. He shook his head. "I don't know how that's ever going to happen."

"But--don't you _want_ to get out of it?"

Erik shrugged. "It doesn't make sense to me to want things if they are never going to happen." Charles licked his lower lip thoughtfully and Erik's gaze was drawn to the sight. 

"And yet you want to kiss me," Charles observed, with a slight smile and one raised eyebrow. 

Erik drew his eyebrows together and summoned his best hurt-puppy look. "So you are telling me that I'm never going to kiss you?"

Charles rested his cheek against his palm. "I'm thinking about it," he said softly. His eyes caught Erik's. "But back to you. If you did allow yourself the extravagant luxury of wanting to do something else, what would it be? Don't you have dreams that aren't centered around your cock?"

Erik felt uncomfortable with the question. "That--that feels like a very intimate thing to share," he said, feeling his cheeks grow hot. 

Charles didn't look away. "I'm a telepath," he said simply. "Things tend to get intimate with me rather quickly."

"In some ways," Erik corrected, with a small smile, thinking of all the ways Charles had not wanted to be intimate with Erik so far.

Charles lip quirked. "In some ways," he acknowledged. 

The waiter brought their food as Charles commented, "Nice deflection, by the way."

Erik chuckled, shaking his head, stabbing a bite of food. "Okay, fine. I don't have dreams the way you seem to, but I do like working with my hands, on both big projects--and small. In fact," Erik's heart started pounding as he thought about what he was going to say next, "I made you something."

Charles paused with a bite of food halfway to his mouth. "What?" he said. He seemed completely confused. 

"Uh...I...well, here." Erik swallowed as he pulled the item he'd made earlier that day from his pocket. "It's--it's an ear cuff." What he placed on the table was a tiny model of a strand of DNA, a double-helix. It was slightly curved overall, with impossibly small detailing, about an inch and a half in length. "It's meant to be worn on the shell of your ear, no piercing necessary," Erik continued. Charles was gaping at him. Erik felt ridiculous and tried to give Charles a way to back away gracefully, even though he desperately wanted Charles to like it. "It's not really your style, I know, but--"

"Erik, that is beautiful. I want to wear it now. How do I put it on? I've never--"

Erik gestured for Charles to turn his head. "Hold your hair up off your ear," he said softly. Charles did, and Erik used his power to move the ear cuff to Charles' ear and gently nudged the metal in a few places until the piece of jewelry was snug but not tight around the shell of Charles ear. 

"Oh I want a mirror!" He said excitedly and Erik grinned, and suddenly had a thought. "Could you--look through my eyes?"

Charles gave him a look of such admiration that Erik almost laughed. "You, my friend, are full of surprises. You don't mind...?" Charles waggled his fingers at Erik. Erik shook his head.

Charles put two fingers to his temple and Erik felt his presence in his mind, a warm, _Charles_ feeling. A slow grin grew across Charles' face as Erik kept gazing at him. Charles let go of his hair and it fell over his ear, hiding the cuff completely. 

"Good. I can wear it while I'm teaching," Charles said matter-of-factly, and Erik felt a warm glow at the implication that Charles wanted to wear it as much as possible, followed by a small emptiness as Charles left his mind. 

Charles took off the cuff and held it in his hand, put it on again, then took it off again. Erik ate while he watched, very amused and pleased. 

"The detail..." Charles breathed as he touched the cuff. Erik's breathing hitched a bit and Charles looked at him. "What?"

"I can--feel it, when you touch that," Erik confessed. 

Charles eyes darkened. "Really?"

Erik nodded. "I can actually feel when you--or anyone--touches anything metal, but something I've spent a lot of time with--well, it sort of, imprints on me, I guess."

Charles raised an eyebrow at him. "So I shouldn't get too friendly with this fork," he commented casually. Then he licked the tines of the fork slowly. 

Erik sucked in his breath. "That's nice," he said, "As much for how it looks as for how it feels. But not terribly sensitive, since I haven't spent time with that fork. More like--" Erik tried to think of an apt analogy and failed. "There's no real way to describe it. Big vibrations, maybe. But when you touch this--" he touched the ear cuff in Charles hand, letting his two fingers stray off onto Charles palm when he was done, "--I feel--more vibrations? Smaller ones?" He shook his head, frustrated at his lack of vocabulary. 

"Would you let me feel sometime?" Charles asked gently, putting the ear cuff back on his ear. 

Erik smiled. "Oh, right; telepath. Yes, of course. It would be nice to have someone else--" Erik couldn't find the right word to finish the sentence (feel it? Share it?) and then realized he already had. 

Charles was smiling softly at him. "The other question you deflected," he prompted, having a bite of his meal. "Tell me about the last date you went on."

"Ahh.." Erik could think of a half-dozen spontaneous after-bar hookups, but those weren't dates. He thought back to the last formal romantic evening he'd had and drew a blank. "Years. It wasn't with a man, I can tell you that much."

"So I'm your first?" Charles seemed delighted to say that, even as Erik choked on his mouthful of pasta. 

"Sorry," he said, recovering, into his napkin. "Yes, you are the first man I've ever dated." He didnn't think he needed to emphasize to Charles that it was no reflection on how many men he'd had sex with. 

Charles just gazed at him looking incredibly happy. Erik thought about asking Charles his dating history, but wasn't really sure he wanted to know. But there was a related subject he was interested in...

"I'm curious," said Erik carefully. "When did you meet Logan?"

"Oh." Charles seemed surprised and his face flushed a bit. "We never dated, if that's what you are asking! He was in the first movie I ever did with a gang-bang scene. He--well..." _Can we talk about it this way? I think one of the other restaurant patrons heard me say 'gang bang,'_ Charles projected to Erik.

_Of course._

_Well, some of the men in the cast didn't seem to understand that the dirty language and groping needed to stop when we were off-camera. Logan--persuaded them to see it differently. He was kind to me. He's straight, you know._

_So he said._ Erik wasn't sure if his mental words conveyed the doubt Erik had about that statement, but hastened to add, somewhat grudgingly, _I'm glad he was there to help you out._

"He's really a teddy bear, underneath his tough attitude," Charles continued out loud, blithely. 

Erik was ready to stop talking about Logan. "Dessert?" he asked Charles, as a waiter came to clear their plates. 

"I think I'd rather have dessert at your place," Charles said seductively, with a slow and deliberate lick of his lips. 

Erik stared at that tongue, feeling a physical response in his pants but not sure what to say. "All the things I want to say in response to that seem--too presumptuous," he finally said, carefully. And then he very much enjoyed the cadence of Charles' laughter. 

**

"Would you ever be interested in doing Ecstasy with me?" Charles asked, when they were in the car driving back to Erik's place.

Erik didn't have to think about it long. "No, not really. I don't really like altering my mind. But I would like to be there if you do it," he said. Charles flashed him a smile and gave his knee a quick squeeze. It seemed to be the right answer as far as Charles was concerned, even as Erik felt a small gnawing in his gut about it. 

After they had arrived at Erik's and settled in on the couch, Charles with a moderate half-glass of white wine in his hand, Charles said, "So, do you want to tell me about the crying thing?"

Erik's eyes flew wide. "Sorry, what?"

"The crying thing," Charles repeated calmly, taking a sip of wine. "You like it; I've seen it in your mind."

Erik felt absolutely naked in an unpleasant way. "I--I'm not really comfortable talking about that," he stuttered. He stood up, looking for something to keep his hands busy. 

"But it turns you on," Charles continued, blithely. "I like to know what turns you on." He reached out to capture Erik's hand and tugged so that Erik was off-balance and took a step back towards the couch. 

"You turn me on," Erik said, re-seating himself on the sofa, close to Charles. He looked at Charles' face close up- the few hints of ginger facial hair, every freckle and small flaw; his incredible, captivating, cerulean eyes. 

"Yes," Charles agreed. "But you like this more--" And Erik saw Charles' face crumple as his lips turned down and trembled in an expression of such abject sadness that Erik felt his gut twist until tears filled those beautiful eyes. Then Erik gasped as lust surged through him and he pressed a hand down hard on the outside of his pants as his cock became rigid so quickly that it was physically painful for Erik. 

Charles' pained expression immediately gave way into a beaming smile and he laughed delightedly, wiping the tears away thoughtlessly. 

"It's not funny," Erik said, turning away, his cheeks burning with shame. 

"Oh, Erik," Charles hugged his shoulders, immediately contrite. "I am sorry. I just don't understand why you feel so bad about liking this?"

"Because--because it's wrong!" Erik said, angrily, still facing away from Charles. "It turns me on to see people miserable. That's a horrible thing, I am--horrible." _Monster,_ his mind whispered. 

Charles had snuggled up to his back, wrapping his arms and legs around Erik from behind. "It's not horrible. There are people in this world turned on by having sex with children, or with corpses...liking it when people cry is far from the worst thing that has turned anyone on," Charles pointed out reasonably. 

Erik shook his head. "No, no. Getting off on someone else's pain--it's sadistic, but worse. Sadists can find masochists and they can have consensual sex and its fine. But who would consent to being fucked while they're _legitimately_ crying?"

Charles seemed to be seriously considering Erik's words. "I wasn't legitimately crying a moment ago, and you seemed to find it quite arousing. How is that wrong?"

Erik considered. "Well, for one thing, at first I thought you were serious. You are very convincing."

Charles squeezed him. "Thanks, love. I like to think I'm a good actor, but it's always nice to be validated. And I can pretty much cry whenever I want."

Erik continued without acknowledging Charles' response, although his cock twitched at Charles' last sentence. "Second, I know enough about human sexuality--and myself--to know that these things escalate. If I let myself like something fake, I'm going to want something real at some point. What if..." Erik trailed off, but his mind flashed with the word _RAPE_.

Charles snorted. "I assure you, Erik; you are not a rapist. I have been in the minds of rapists. You are generous and respectful of boundaries, almost to a fault." 

Erik didn't say anything, caught in a mental space that was very familiar to him; a feedback loop of _sex-guilt-sex-guilt_ that would drive him mad if he didn't get it out of his head. His cock was still hard and pressing into his jeans urgently. 

"What if..." Charles trailed off and he kissed Erik on the back of the neck. "What if we do a little roleplay?"

"Roleplay?" Erik huffed. "Don't you get enough of that at work?" 

Charles chuckled against the back of his ear. "This isn't work; this is play." Charles got up and sat in Erik's lap. "But I can sweeten the deal." He pressed a gentle kiss to Erik's lips and opened his mouth to let his tongue dance across Erik's lips. 

Erik responded eagerly, thrusting his tongue into Charles mouth with a groan of relief and started sucking on Charles' tongue. He pulled Charles' delectable bottom lip between his teeth, pulling off after a moment, gasping.

"I never thought I would be undone by kissing," he grunted, wanting more kissing, but curiosity took over. "So what changed?"

Charles shrugged. "I know you're clean. We're both tested frequently or we wouldn't be working. I'm just--cautious."

They were both given a full STD panel every 27 days per the industry standard, as Erik had known all along. Erik didn't insist on condoms for every sexual act, but it seemed like Charles did. Erik thought about asking some more questions but decided he might seem presumtuous again if he did. "I'm glad it didn't come down to a dental damn," he said honestly.

Charles laughed. "Soo..." He put both hands in Erik's hair. "Roleplay?" His facial expression was hopeful and aroused at the same time. 

"Ah...I can't say no to you," Erik said, kissing the younger man again, deeply. "What did you have in mind?"

Charles didn't hesitate. "You are a mean cop, and I'm a dirty male prostitute." 

Erik eyes went wide for a moment, then he nodded, slowly at first, but eventually eagerly. "Okay. But I'm a good actor too, so you'd better be prepared..."

Charles bounced on Erik's lap in delight and grinned. "Oh, yes." 

Erik shot his right hand through Charles hair and grabbed a fistful--not hard enough to hurt, but enough to startle. Charles looked gratifyingly alarmed for a split second. "What have I told you about working this street, whore?" He growled into Charles' ear.

"I--I think you've mistaken me for someone else, officer," Charles whimpered, squirming as if he wanted Erik to let his hair go. 

"I don't think I have. I think I saw you sucking off a john just a few minutes ago," Erik used his hold on Charles hair to push his face down, towards Erik's lap. "It looked to me like you needed some fucking practice." Charles had to push his body back along the sofa to accomodate Erik's having pushed his head down, and now Erik shoved his head down farther so his cheek rubbed against Erik's jeans. "Unzip my pants with your mouth, slut, and if you can manage that, then maybe we can start negotating."

Erik hoped that Charles knew that Erik had no intention of crossing any boundaries related to unprotected sex. He figured _telepath,_ and put the worry out of his mind. 

Charles had managed to get his lips and teeth around Erik's zipper and was trying to tug it down, but Erik's jeans were getting quite wet with Charles' saliva in the process. "See? I told you needed practice," he crooned in a fake-sweet voice to Charles. "Sloppy whore, drooling everywhere." He petted Charles hair. 

Charles whimpered, but Erik felt a mental pulse from him of ... _fucking hot..._

Erik used his power to nudge the zipper along because really, Charles was delightful but he wasn't getting very far very fast. He undid the buttonwith his hands, and his cock immediately sprang up and tented his boxers. Erik reached down and pushed the boxers down under his cock so his naked engorged penis was brushing Charles' cheek. 

He let go of Charles' hair. "Well, slut, you have a choice; suck my cock, or go to jail." Charles, in character, shook his head "no" without verbalizing anything; every movement mode his cheek brush against Erik's penis tantalizingly.

"Officer, please," Charles finally said, turning his face up to Erik's, a face full of desperation, with chewed red lips and big blue eyes. "Please don't make me--" his eyes filled tears. 

Erik gasped and reached quickly to clamp around his cock, but it was too late. He came spectacularly and groaned so loudly it might have been described as a yell. His penis was alongside Charles' face when it happend so the other man didn't quite get a faceful of semen, but it did spurt all over his shoulder and hair. 

"Oh my God," Erik gasped, mortified. "I'm so sorry, I didn't expect..."

But Charles was grinning at him. "That was fucking hot. _You_ are fucking hot." He kissed Erik, deeply. Erik was in a daze. 

"Right then!" Charles popped up and rubbed his hands together. "I'm going to use your shower, and of course you are welcome to join me, and then I'd like to show you something I'm rather good at. I won an award for it last year, in fact."

Erik's brain still wasn't quite working. "What?"

"I think it's colloquially referred to as 'being fucked in the ass'." Charles raised an eyebrow in challenge to Erik. "That is, if you're up for it."

Oh. Erik concentrated for a moment and his flaccid penis slowly became erect again. "Behold, the miracle of modern mutation."

Charles stared. "Remind me to never underestimate you." 

Erik laughed.


	7. Safe Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I skipped this sex scene when I wrote the story, and I have felt guilty about it ever since. I wasn't in the mood to write it at the time and it seemed somewhat gratuitous - but this is a fanfic about porn stars, after all, so I got over that. 
> 
> (This happens the night of their first official date, after they have just tried roleplay in the living room, something they both enjoyed but which left Charles with some of Erik's semen in is hair.)

**

Charles discarded his clothes haphazardly down the hall as he headed towards the bathroom. Erik was taking his time, still shaking off the after effects of his orgasm, but Charles’ cock was hard and he debated while he waited for the shower water to heat up if he should jerk off. 

Erik came up behind him, similarly naked, and kissed his shoulder. “You’re short,” he observed.

“Charming,” Charles said dryly as he reached a hand out to test the water temperature. “Although, that’s a better pick-up line than ‘did you see me in Exotic Cocksuckers VII’ or whatever the fuck it was you said to me at the bar.” He smirked as his eyes slid sideways to see Erik’s response and he seemed pleased to see Erik looking both annoyed and amused. 

“You’re also a brat,” Erik said, reaching down to squeeze a plump buttock before drawing back and giving one strong spank to the same ass cheek. 

“And this is how you treat brats?” Charles murmured, as he stepped into the shower’s hot spray. Erik followed him, standing close behind him. 

“Part of it.” His hands wandered and easily found Charles’ erect cock. He started lazily stroking it. Charles batted his hand away.

“Do you have shampoo? You left some genetic material in my hair.”

Erik snorted. “Yes, professor.” Erik handed Charles a bottle. 

“On the other hand,” Charles said, as he put a bit of shampoo in his hand, “Maybe I should keep a sample. Mutant studies, and all.” 

“So you can clone me? You really think you could handle two of me?”

Charles suddenly grinned wide, mischieviously. “Oh, I certainly could. I’m a professional, you know.”

Oh, Erik knew. He just didn’t want to think about that right now.

“It wouldn’t work out though, I’m afraid,” Charles continued, scrubbing the shampoo into his hair. “If I cloned you, I’d have to raise that clone from infancy. That would make a threesome distinctly awkward.”

He was teasing, of course. Erik could play along. “Not to mention, you’d have to deal with having a kid for twenty years or so first.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Charles said, rinsing his hair under the hot spray, “That doesn’t seem so bad to me.”

Erik paused for a moment and then gave a short bark of laughter. “Are we having the ‘do you want to have kids’ conversation now? Is that entirely appropriate?”

“Darling, neither of us is entirely appropriate.” Charles said. He had a point. He turned to Erik with a brilliant smile and gave him a lovely, unhurried, deep kiss. Then he turned and retrieved a towel and stepped out of the shower. 

“So you don’t want kids?” Charles’ voice was somewhat muffled, as he was drying his hair when he asked that question. 

Erik was taking his own shower, methodically and quickly. He all but froze when Charles spoke. “Um. I don’t know. It’s really hard for me to imagine how kids would fit into my life.”

Charles hummed noncommittally and watched Erik through the clear glass as he rapidly finished his shower. Erik followed Charles to his bedroom when he had determined himself dry enough. 

“So what can I do for you?” Erik asked. Charles had laid down on the huge bed on his back and Erik was on his side next to him, stroking a hand across the pale yet firm flesh of Charles’ abdomen, watching goosebumps rise. 

“Suck me?” Charles suggested, in a voice pitched lower than usual that sent blood rushing to Erik’s cock even without the help of his mutation. He began kissing his way down Charles’ chest when Charles put something in front of his face, blocking his path down the treasure trail he’d been following. Erik frowned and focused on a condom package. Of course.

“For sucking you off?” He knew his voice was tinged with disbelief but he couldn’t help it. He fucking hated the taste of latex. 

“It’s mint-flavored,” Charles offered. Erik sighed, and opened the package unhappily. It smelled like stale mentos. He did his best to bury his distaste and unrolled it onto Charles’ cock. 

Erik had just put his mouth on Charles’ condom-covered penis when the condom disappeared. Erik jerked back. “What the fuck? I just--” He looked at Charles and Charles was trying hard not to laugh but he couldn’t hold it in anymore at the look on Erik’s face. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, still chortling. “It’s a--what did you call it?--Judy mind trick?”

Even though he felt somewhat annoyed for being laughed at, and also for being mind-whammied, Erik couldn’t help himself chuckling at Charles’ butchering of the Star Wars reference. “Yes, Judy Mindtrick. I think I used to date her.” He lowered his head to swirl a tongue around the head. It still felt and tasted like bare penis. Amazing.

“My own sensitivity is unfortunately still a bit dulled, but at least you won’t have to deal with mint-flavored latex,” Charles said calmly. Erik got the message and sucked the cock in front of him harder than he otherwise would a naked penis, not bothering about being too careful with his teeth or about over-stimulating the frenulum as could sometimes happen. 

It was definitely having an effect on Charles - he had one hand fisted in the blanket next to him and one in Erik’s hair, and he was moaning lightly. Erik adjusted the angle of his head so he could do what he wanted and he took all of Charles cock into his mouth, straight down his throat until his lips were pressed to Charles’ pubic bone and then tried to swallow around the penis. It made his throat convulse around Charles’ member and the brunette man made even more gratifying sounds. 

Hard to breathe that way, though. Erik came up for air, gasping, as Charles said, “Fuck me, please,” in his perfect posh little voice. 

“I will,” he promised. “Right after I eat your ass.” He flipped Charles over and pulled his ass up so that it was open, exposed, his back arched, his face to the side but pressed into the sheets. 

“Dental dam,” Charles whimpered and Erik cursed loudly. 

“Where?” he growled. He had wanted to fuck this gorgeous ass with his tongue ever since he had first seen Charles naked. He didn’t want to use a fucking dental dam.

“Okay, skip it,” Charles whispered and Erik eagerly licked at Charles’ pert little pucker before it occurred to him that maybe Charles meant to skip the activity and not the dental dam. He reluctantly pulled his face up to ask for clarification when Charles snapped, “God dammit, don’t fucking stop now.” 

Relief and lust swept through Erik as he licked and sucked at Charles’ hairless asshole, while the younger man moaned loudly. He stroked fingers down the backside of Charles’ balls as he pointed his tongue and pushed it inside, gradually fucking it in until Charles was whimpering and trembling. He slicked up one finger with saliva and pushed that in next to his tongue. The noises Charles was making were driving him crazy in the best way, and as Erik’s eyes fell on the round globe of his left buttock Erik had to smack it, fascinated to see the pink handprint that appeared. 

Based on the noises Charles was making, he approved. 

Erik slid a second finger next to the first and pulled has face back to admire the view. Somewhat awkwardly, he slapped Charles’ right buttock with his left hand but he had to do it a second time in order to get the same quality of pink handprint that he’d gotten on the left. 

Charles was spewing profanities through his grunts, words that didn’t fit his smooth Oxford accent, and the sound it of went straight to Erik’s cock. He reached his power out and a small object flew off the shelf across the room and into Erik’s hand. Charles stopped making noises abruptly. “Erik, what the fuck was that?”

Charles head was angled so he would have been able to see movement, but not get a clear view. “Condom,” Erik grunted. “Foil-wrapped. My favorite kind.” 

Charles laughed weakly and then sucked in his breath as Erik pulled his fingers out of Charles to open the wrapper and roll it on. Erik didn’t speak as he poised his cock at Charles’ entrance and very slowly started to press in. He reached around with his hand to wrap a hand around Charles’ penis and a few slow strokes made Charles’ sphincter relax a fraction, and Erik pushed in a bit more. 

Strictly speaking, Charles’ anus had not been stretched enough for a cock the size of Erik’s, but Erik knew this and was proceeding slowly. He liked the idea of it being his cock doing the stretching. He called his little metal bottle of lube to him as well to add to the lubrication the condom already had and slowly pushed in more. 

“Your ass is fucking incredible, Charles; fuck, you feel so good,” Erik found himself saying as he continued to stroke Charles with his right hand and push his cock inside. He paused to rock in and out a little and was pleased to see that Charles seemed to be beyond speech, poised at the edge of pain and pleasure in such a way that he was only able to make wordless sounds. 

When he was buried deep inside, his hip flexors pressed against Charles’ buttocks, Erik moved his hips in a circular motion, just a bit, helping to get Charles’ ass accommodated. Charles mewled helplessly. 

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he informed Charles, which he followed with a nip to Charles’ shoulder blade- all he could really reach with his mouth. He took his hand off Charles’ penis in order to hold both hips as he carefully started moving in and out. He added a little more lube and the motion got easier. Charles’ sounds turned into low moans as Erik got into a rhythm. 

Erik was losing himself in the sensation when Charles gasped, “I want to ride you.” 

Erik pulled his cock out, careful to hold the base so the condom stayed on. He lay down on his back and Charles climbed on top of him, huffing, “more lube.”

Erik called his lube bottle to his hand and squeezed out a dollop, which he rubbed on and into Charles’ puffy and sensitive entrance. 

“Using your powers in bed...fuck, that’s hot,” Charles breathed, his breath hitching with every movement of Erik’s fingers as he spread the lube around. 

Erik grinned. “Right back at you,” he said, remembering how Charles had made him forget the condom was there when he sucked Charles. He rapped the knuckles of his left hand on his metal headboard. “Let me know if you ever want to try bondage.” 

“We did, and yes, I do, and why did you destroy my flask if you had this--” Charles was cut-off as Erik had started putting his cock back inside the younger man. “Oh _fuck,_ ” Charles said, his eyes rolling up and his eyelids fluttering. 

Erik grabbed his hips but Charles wasn’t having it. He looked thoughtfully at the headboard. “I want…” He pushed into Erik’s mind what he wanted; something to hold onto, as he wanted to fuck himself on Erik’s cock from an upright position. Erik thought about that for a minute, then grabbed Charles hips again.

“Hold on,” he said, and used his power to tug them both closer to his headboard until Erik was sitting mostly upright, leaning against it. He formed two handles on either side of him from the solid metal that jutted forward over the bed about six inches - enough to give Charles some leverage. The handles were about shoulder height for Erik. 

Charles was absolutely delighted by the entire process. He put his hands on the grips and grinned at Erik fiercely, pushing himself up and down with ease. His biceps flexed and Erik stroked them and then across Charles chest, brushing by his nipples and hearing Charles inhalation of pleasure when he did that. 

“Would you ever get your nipples pierced?” He said to Charles. The mental image of Charles with stainless steel bars in his nipples was overwhelmingly sexy to Erik, and his hips pulsed up to meet Charles’ downward thrust. 

“I would have said no, before I met you,” Charles replied breathlessly. That small admission jolted Erik and he watched as it jolted Charles, too, as their eyes met. Erik realized suddenly that he was doing more than having fun, athletic sex--this was something else; he was falling for Charles, and in the way that Charles caught his breath and met Erik’s gaze he realized that Charles had just had the same realization. 

Suddenly, the sex was both gentler and more intense. Charles kept riding him, harder than before, but his eyes were open, looking at Erik’s face.

“Jerk me off, please,” he whispered to Erik when all Erik was doing was stroking down his torso and gazing at his eyes. Erik nodded, getting some lube on his hand and stroking Charles’ cock, his eyes never leaving Charles’ beautiful face, his swollen, red parted lips crying out Erik’s name as he spurted thick strands of come all over Erik’s chest. 

Erik wished that he was close to coming but he wasn’t; he could keep his cock hard without concentrating too hard using his mutation but he had come not that long ago. He pulled Charles down into a deep kiss with one hand and put the other on Charles’ hips to still them. 

Charles pulled up and gave him a questioning glance but Erik shrugged. “I’m good from earlier,” he said. “This was about you.” Charles smiled and kissed him again, slower, all his weight on Erik which Erik welcomed even though Charles was pretty heavy. He liked the feeling, though. When Charles noticed it was becoming hard for him to breathe easily he carefully moved to Erik’s side and scrunched up his face as the mess of semen between their chests made a squelching noise from his movement. 

Erik couldn’t help but smirk at Charles’ reaction. “Some porn star you are,” he teased. 

Charles rolled his eyes at Erik. “I have a feeling I will be taking a lot of showers if we keep hanging out,” he said lightly as he headed down the hall to presumably do just that.

Hanging out. Erik turned the phrase over in his mind. He wanted it to be more than that, and he was pretty sure Charles did too. They’d had a--moment, hadn’t they?

Erik fell asleep before he was able to put much more thought into it, but he was awake enough to feel Charles wipe him down with a warm washcloth and then snuggle up next to him. And suddenly he wasn’t worried about labels anymore.


	8. The Mutant Rights Rally

Wednesday morning

"You're doing it _again_?" 

The words were spoken in a tone of groggy disbelief from the bed. Charles guiltily stopped reaching down for his shirt, having already put his jeans on. 

"You were sleeping so peacefully; I didn't want to wake you," Charles said gracefully as he sat on the bed and stroked his hand through Erik's auburn hair. Erik was stunningly gorgeous in the morning light, despite the slight frown crinkling his features, and despite or perhaps because of the ginger stubble on his face. 

Pale green eyes looked at him through slits as the prone man said drowsily, "Bullshit."

Charles mouth quirked in amusement. "I have a lot to do today," he explained, but his body betrayed him as he climbed back into the bed, albeit on top of the covers. "I have to write a curriculum for a whole new class and I only have a few days to do it."

Erik looked at him beseechingly. "Can it wait a few hours?"

Charles rubbed the back of his knuckles against Erik's stubble. "And what would we do for those hours?" 

Erik's eyes lit up for a moment but it seemed he was beginning to know Charles well enough not to say the first thing which popped into his head. Although Charles appreciated that image as well...

"Ah, well, we could talk...about..." Erik was grasping at straws, Charles could tell. The brunette man smirked. 

"You asked me about my dreams for the future, but you never told me about yours," Erik said after a moment, moving his body so that his chin was on Charles' chest. This also helped pin Charles down, a fact which was certainly not lost on either man. "Tell me your dreams."

Charles looked at Erik for a moment and puffed some air out his nostrils in mirth. "Well--hmm. That does feel like kind of an intimate question, doesn't it?"

"I thought that you weren't afraid of intimacy," Erik reminded his lover, snuggling closer. 

Charles shook his head. "I never said that," he replied, with a light smile. Erik's brow crinkled a bit but before the other man could pick up that thread of conversation, Charles said slowly, "My dream...well, I wish I could provide mutants with a safe place. An island or resort would be ideal, but even just a big house. So none of us have to be homeless, or join the military." Or work in porn. 

Erik was quiet for a minute. "That sounds wonderful." 

Charles nodded, gazing up at the ceiling. "Also, of course, I'd like to be able to teach, and research, and write...and, I suppose, have sex with only the people I want to, only when I want to." He looked at Erik's eyes again. "But that's why it's called a dream, right?" He smiled to take the sting out of his words. 

Nevertheless, the hurt look that flashed across Erik's face made Charles wish he hadn't added the last part. He pushed Erik over and gave him a nice long kiss, which Erik accepted eagerly. 

Charles sighed regretfully. "I've got to go," he whispered against Erik's mouth.

Erik kissed him for another few minutes before he reluctantly let Charles up to finish getting dressed. "When will I see you again?"

Charles gave Erik a flirtatious look as he buttoned up his shirt. "Are you asking me out?"

Erik sat up a bit. "Yes! Yes, I am. Would you like to go out with me, Charles?" 

Charles pretended to think about it. "Hmm, I don't know...okay, okay, yes, of course," he finished, laughing, after he saw in Erik's mind that the larger man was moments away from tackling Charles back onto the bed. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well...actually there's a Mutants Rights Rally I've been planning to go to on Thursday night--would you like to go with me?" Erik looked very excited about it. 

Charles sucked in his breath through his teeth and tried to think of a reason to decline that wouldn't offend Erik. He had reasons for not wanting to go to a Mutants Rights Rally that he wasn't exactly proud of, but they had nothing to do with Erik. "That's actually the night I have the biggest chunk of time available all week to work on my curriculum," he said, looking very contrite. "And I would like to be fully prepared as soon as possible. But you should go to that. And maybe Raven would want to go with you?"

"Ah. Well, Raven's the one who told me about it," Erik said. He was trying so hard not to look disappointed. "And I hope you're not trying to set me up with your sister."

Charles snorted. "Well, you'd be a better choice than..." he stopped and shook his head. "That's not fair, and I know it. I haven't given Azazel a chance."

"So when _are_ you free?"

Charles thought about his week. "Saturday night?"

"Great! It's a date." Erik grinned his ferocious, adorable grin.

"Also, Erik? Would you fix my flask?" Charles held up the deformed metal flask that Erik had used to make handcuffs of that first night they'd been together. 

"Of course," the other man laughed. Charles just _had_ to kiss him one more time before he left.

**

Darwin had asked Erik if he could get a ride to the Mutant Rights Rally, and Erik was happy to have the company. He texted Raven and offered her a ride as well, hoping if she said yes he would have an excuse to see Charles, but she texted back "I'm dating a teleporter, duh."

Nevertheless, Erik was in high spirits when they arrived at the outdoor amphitheater in Redondo Beach just after 6pm. The early evening was shaping up to be beautiful, the perfect temperature and with just a few clouds in the sky that would soon become a colorful sunset. As he got out of the car, Erik roared ferociously at the sky, triumphantly lifting two fists in the air.

"Whoa, man," Darwin laughed and mock-staggered a couple steps back. "You are in a mood tonight."

Erik grinned, couldn't stop grinning. "I love these events. Love seeing everyone be themselves, not have to hide..." Erik saw Logan approaching. "Even this asshole." He said it loud enough for Logan to hear, still grinning. 

"Fuck you, pal," Logan said cheerfully, with his trademark cigar clamped in between his teeth. He turned to Darwin. "Don't believe we've met."

Erik introduced them and left them to learn about each other’s mutations while he turned to scan the crowd for other mutants he knew. It wasn't long before a voluptuous blue woman called to him. "Erik! Over here!" Erik happily waved back even though he had no idea who she was. As she got closer, Erik could see she had a red devil in tow and Erik's jaw dropped. _"Raven?"_

"Oh, right." She stopped a few feet from him and laughed. "I guess you haven't seen me in my natural form before." She twirled saucily, if somewhat self-consciously.

"God, you're gorgeous," Erik blurted out before he noticed Azazel scowling at him. 

Raven was surprised and obviously flattered. "Well, uh, thank you? Unless..." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you just saying that because you want to get into my brother's pants?"

"Too late," Erik said, without thinking, and then winced as her eyes went wide. Oh, he was going to hear it about that. 

"Are you fucking kidding..." she started, but was interrupted by a beautiful blond and very annoyed woman dressed in white approaching. 

"They said our permit was denied," Emma Frost spat. "Which is utter bullshit. I filed the paperwork over a month ago. It's not _our_ fault the city insurance adjuster got cold feet about a thousand mutants in his little amphitheater and changed his mind."

"Well, let's just move it somewhere else," Darwin suggested. 

Emma turned to him in an icy blast. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Darwin, mutant and proud," he said with a grin. "Why don't we move this party to Venice? It's not far and there's plenty of beach there to assemble." He didn't say that most of the mutants in Los Angeles lived in Venice anyway, because that was common knowledge. 

"Well, for one, it's a logistical nightmare," Emma pointed out. "Just concerning communication. There are hundreds of mutants already here and probably hundreds more who haven't arrived yet - even if I had all their phone numbers, we wouldn't have time to contact everyone."

Raven said slowly, "Can you mentally broadcast the change to just mutants?"

Emma looked startled. "Oh. I've--I've never tried that. I think as long it's only within a couple miles, I can." She looked at Raven in surprise. "What made you think of that?"

"I--I have a friend who's a telepath." Raven explained, awkwardly. 

So Raven didn't want people to know her brother was a telepath--or Charles had forebade her from telling anyone. Interesting, Erik thought. 

Emma looked at Darwin. "I'm going to blame you if this doesn't work out," she said warningly. 

"I can handle anything you want to throw at me," Darwin replied, still smiling, but with an edge of steel in his voice. Considering his mutation, surely he could.

Emma put her hands on her head and concentrated. _This message is for all mutants wishing to attend tonight's Mutants Rights Rally. We are moving the event to Venice Beach and our new start time is 8PM._

"I heard it," Azazel confirmed. All the mutants in their little circle looked at each other and confirmed that they'd all heard the message. 

"Very impressive, little lady," Logan grinned at Emma and took a step closer to her. 

"Let me save you some time," she sighed, "Not interested." 

Logan shrugged. "Wasn't offering. But it's your loss, all the same."

"I'm sure." She turned to Erik and a seductive smile transformed her features. "But you, Erik--you just might get lucky. We should talk after the event." 

Erik gaped at her before he found his voice. "I--I'm sorry, Emma." He finally managed. "I'm seeing someone." 

The little circle went deathly quiet until someone snickered. Emma blushed furiously and left, presumably to go to Venice. 

As soon as she left everyone started laughing except Erik, who just felt stunned and uncomfortable. 

"Damn, son, you just flat-out rejected the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Darwin said through gales of laughter. 

Erik rubbed his face. "I feel like I could have handled that better." 

"She did it to herself, Erik," Raven said, seeming surprising reasonable about it. "She was arrogant, and she put you on the spot. And its not like you lied." Then her yellow eyes flashed at Erik. “Although I’m not saying I approve of _that_.”

Darwin swiveled his head between Raven and Erik. "Wait, what? Really? Erik you have a--" Darwin paused considerately in deciding what word to use, but Logan had no such compunctions. 

"Erik's got a boyfriend," Logan said, puffing his cigar. "Frankie." 

Raven frowned. "Frankie? Who's Frankie?"

_Oh shit._ His mind raced. "Frankie is my, uh, nickname for Charles, Raven's brother." 

Logan frowned but shrugged, Raven snorted, and Darwin's eyes got big. Erik sighed and rubbed his face again. Now he had to keep track of a bunch of lies. _This_ is why mutants need rights, he thought. _so nobody has to hide anymore._ Nevermind that this wasn't about Charles' mutation at all--or was it?

Erik and Darwin walked back to his car to drive to Venice. As they got inside, Erik said, "So, yeah, remember those videos you let me borrow? I'm kind of dating that guy now..."

"And his real name is Charles, and his sister doesn't know he works in porn," Darwin looked at him. "I figured it out, Erik. It wasn't that hard." 

Erik sighed. "It's hard for me. All the secrets, I mean, not dating Charles. That's just..." Erik shook his head and smiled because he had no words, no words to express how he felt about Charles, without feeling like an idiot, even with a good friend like Darwin. 

"Aww," said Darwin with a grin. "You're in love."

Erik grinned even bigger. "Maybe. It's only been--let's see--a week." He shook his head in disbelief. "Crazy, how you can go from barely knowing someone exists to their being the center of your universe in so short a time."

Darwin chuckled and shook his head. "Must be nice, man."

Erik glanced at Darwin. "Are you seeing anyone?"

"Me?...ah, well, there was this one guy for a while, but I kinda lost track of him." The smile that seemed to define the man never left Darwin's face, but his voice faltered a little.

Erik frowned. "Lost track? What do you mean?"

"Well, he..." Darwin laughed. "He actually used to live in your building. I would sometimes go to his place after you and I hung out."

Erik chuckled. "Darwin, you sly dog. I had no idea."

He shrugged. "We kept it on the DL. He was kind of an--addict."

Erik glanced at Darwin again. "Kind of?"

"Not kind of," Darwin admitted quietly. "He definitely was an addict, but I care about him and now I don't know where he is." Darwin looked out the window, away from Erik.

Erik had rarely seen his friend Darwin display any emotion other than ebullience. Erik wasn't sure how to respond, but he didn't want to let his friend down. "So, I guess he doesn't live in my building anymore?" Erik asked quietly.

Darwin shook his head, still looking away from Erik. "I noticed he'd moved about two weeks ago. He never told me he was going anywhere, he just stopped returning my calls and when I dropped by his place I found it vacant." Darwin hesitated for a moment and then continued. "He was supposed to play your sidekick in that Superhero movie you're doing."

"Alex Havcok?" Erik said, surprised.

Darwin nodded. 

"Well, I hope you find him," Erik said, putting a hand on Darwin's shoulder.

Darwin smiled sadly back at him. "I just hope he's okay."

They found parking a few blocks away from the beach and Erik thought he should text Charles a quick heads-up before Raven caught him off-guard.

**

Charles got a phone call late Thursday afternoon from an admin at HSP, the porn production company that was producing the XXX Superhero film. It was an odd request.

Charles frowned into the phone. "Run that by me again?"

"Management wants to know if you will come to a party in Sherman Oaks on Saturday night," The young woman repeated patiently. Angel, she'd said her name was, Charles recalled. 

"Well, actually I have plans Saturday," he said uncertainly. He also knew, though, that he didn't have any future projects lined up past the current one and sometimes these parties presented an opportunity to meet people who would hire him. He knew he had a bit of a reputation for being difficult on-set, but he could be very charming in a social setting. 

"Oh!" The girl on the phone laughed. "Sorry, hun. This is more like a gig, not a party invitation. They want you to be a host. This party is going to be off the hook," she added enthusiastically. 

Charles couldn't help but smile at the girl's response, but he still wasn't exactly sure what was being asked of him. "What does 'being a host' entail?"

"Well, it's--they want you to wear something cute, and flirt with the guests, and basically make sure people have a good time. You're not expected to serve food, or have sex, although--" she giggled, "--Probably nobody will object if you do." 

_I bet they wouldn't,_ Charles thought. He wasn't stupid; he knew he could be risking his safety at a party like this. He would certainly be groped, and people would offer him drugs or money for sex; and possibly even--

"Oh, also it pays five thousand dollars."

Charles jaw dropped. "I'm sorry, did you say five thousand dollars?" That was about three times what he made on a typical adult movie. 

"Yeah." She giggled. "I guess I should have said that part sooner."

Before Charles could spend too much time wondering why he would be offered so much more money for so much less work than usual, he immediately thought about what having that money would do for him. With the supplementary income from teaching at both Pierce and Northridge, that five thousand dollars would probably get him through the entire fall semester. A whole four months without porn. And in January, he might pick up more classes for the spring semester...

He might not ever have to work in porn again. 

"I'll do it," Charles said. "Provided I'm paid in advance." No sense in being foolish about it.

"Great! I'll see you there," the girl said happily. "I'm working the party too, by the way."

That actually made Charles feel a little better. Even though he couldn't read minds over the phone, this girl Angel seemed pleasant and fun. 

"I'm going to FedEx you what they want you to wear," she continued. "The check will be in the box. Oh, and the address of the Essex residence will be in the box, too, that's where the party will be."

Something about her last statement jogged his memory, but he couldn't pin it down, as he suddenly recalled that he would have to reschedule his date with Erik that night. 

"Sounds great, thank you," he said, and disconnected the call to get in touch with Erik. 

Erik didn't answer, and Charles remembered that he was at the Mutants Rights Rally and he felt a pang. Charles was fervently in support of Mutants' Rights, obviously, but he couldn't risk his worlds colliding at events like these. He knew Raven believed that he didn't go because he didn't approve (even though he’d never actually said that to her) but sometimes he desperately wished that _he_ was the shapeshifter so he could attend without being recognized. However, besides mutants, the main attendees of these rallies were college students, and Charles didn't want to jeopardize his budding college teaching career with the fact that he currently worked in porn with several other mutants, who were there right now...

Charles sighed and mashed his cell phone into his cheek. He had a curriculum to prepare, anyway. He continued working on his lesson plans for a while and a couple hours later he received some texts from Erik.

_**i accidentally told Raven we had sex. Oops.** _

_**Also she thinks my nickname for you is Frankie. long story.** _

Charles huffed out his breath in exasperation at the messages. He didn't blame Erik, but these were exactly the kinds of things he was hoping to avoid by not attending the rally. It was frustrating to have to deal with repercussions of the event when he wasn't even bloody there to enjoy it. And Raven was going to have his head for having sex with a ‘porn star’. It all made Charles want to go on a beer run.

As he walked to the liquor store, he texted Erik: _**Ok, thanks for the heads-up. Also will have to take a rain check for Sat night--something came up. Sunday okay?**_

Erik responded: _**:( Yes**_

And a minute later: _**I miss you**_

Charles felt the warm, happy feeling he was beginning to associate with Erik as he texted back _**miss you too**_

**

Despite knowing that he would have to wait an entire extra day before seeing Charles again, Charles' last text restored Erik's good mood from earlier. He checked his watch - thirty minutes until the rally officially started. As Darwin and Erik waded through the noisy crowd, Erik grinned to see mutants of so many flavors and shapes in the crowd; there were people hovering, people flickering, a purple guy juggling chainsaws. At Venice beach it seemed almost unremarkable. Erik loved the feeling in the air.

He was so focused on trying to see everything happening at once that didn't notice when he walked right into the blue backside of Raven. "Well excuse you!" She exclaimed, whirling and smacking him on the chest, rather hard, and then immediately changing demeanors. "Oh, Erik, bye the way, this is my new friend Angel! She has wings!"

Angel was a very cute dark-skinned girl who grinned at Raven's words and extended her wings, fluttering a few feet up off the ground. "Hello, Erik. Oh, hi, Darwin!"

Erik laughed in delight. "Angel! Great to meet you. I wish I could fly!"

"Nice, Angel, I don't usually get to see you showing off," Darwin said, laughing. "We work together," he explained to Erik and Raven and Azazel. Logan had not shown up at the new rally site yet.

"Well, we sort of work together," Angel qualified. "I'm part time in the office and part time doing...other things." She smiled at Erik and turned to address him directly. "So what’s your mutation, baby?" She said to him with a wink. Erik was almost too stunned to respond. Two beautiful women flirting with him in one day? Unreal. 

"Ah..." he looked around for some way to display his ability impressively and saw someone riding by on a bike. Hmm, maybe not. But about a hundred feet away, he saw that the purple-skinned mutant juggling three chainsaws.

Erik nudged Angel. "I'll show you. You see the guy with the chainsaws?"

Angel looked where he was pointing and then looked back at Erik with wide eyes. "I hope you know what you're doing," she said. 

Erik grinned. "Watch."

He put out his hand and made all three three chainsaws hover in mid-air, still running, well above the head of the juggler. The crowd around the juggler gasped and the purple mutant just stood there for a moment, clearly terrified and waiting for the worst. When one of the chainsaws turned off and started to slowly descend, the juggler reached for it, only for it to jump out of his reach again. The crowd laughed. Another chainsaw did the same thing, and then juggler jumped for that one with even more desperation, prompting even more laughter from the crowd. Soon, the man was leaping desperately in the air chasing after all three turned-off chainsaws to wild hoots from the crowd surrounding him. 

Erik snuck a glance at Angel and she was laughing so hard she could hardly speak. Erik grinned and let the chainsaws sink safely to the ground where the purple man started cautiously poking them with a stick. 

"That's--so--mean," gasped Angel, holding her sides. Erik chuckled. 

"Well, it seemed a better option than making the bicyclist fly, but yeah, it was kind of mean," he acknowledged. "I'd better go make it up to him."

Erik strode over the the purple mutant who was collecting tips from the slowly dispersing crowd. "Hey, man, I owe you an apology."

The purple man glared at him. "Were you responsible for that display?"

Erik winced. "Yeah, sorry. I'm a metallokinetic."

"Well, you know what, pal--" the mutant started angrily and then immediately changed gears, bursting into laughter. "You come do that anytime you want. I got three times my regular tips!"

"Oh!" Erik laughed in surprise. "Well, I'm glad to hear it. Carry on, then."

"Thanks for not killing me," the man called to him as he walked away. Erik waved over his shoulder.

Erik was chuckling as he jogged back to Angel and Raven. "We're cool. Apparently it improved his show." Angel was gazing at him with open admiration.

"Erik," Raven said loud enough that Erik winced, "Did I mention that Angel is single?"

Angel shoved a giggling Raven away and gave Erik a shy grin. He grinned back nervously, and swallowed. "I, uh, just started seeing someone," he stammered, under Raven's baleful glare. 

Angel pouted adorably and shrugged. "Aw. Can I borrow your phone?" 

Bemused, he handed it to her and watched her add a phone number to his contacts labelled "Angel - Flying Hottie." She handed the phone back to him with a smile. "Just in case." 

Erik felt relieved when Angel turned away from him to talk to Raven about some upcoming party. Women finding him attractive again. It was heady, but he flashed on Charles’ soft smile and breathtaking blue eyes and he knew he was making the right choice. 

Just then, the PA kicked on. "Hello fellow mutants!" Emma Frost's voice rang out over the crowd. She was being levitated above the crowd on the beach by some unseen telekinetic mutant, so everyone could see her. A loud cheer went up. 

"We were hoping singer Sean Cassidy could be here tonight to talk and perform for us," she continued, "but unfortunately his management didn't think that was a good idea." 

The crowd booed loudly.

"I know, I know..." Emma said. 

Emma went on talking to the gathered mutants but Erik was distracted when Darwin said, "What is _he_ doing here?" Erik followed his gaze and his gut twisted when he saw his landlord, Sebastian. 

"How do you know Sebastian?" Erik asked, for some reason not wanting to let the despised man out of his sight. 

"I work for him," Darwin replied. 

Erik turned to Darwin with a baffled frown just as Emma introduced the next speaker, and the name of that speaker distracted Erik so much so that he didn't ask Darwin the follow-up question that he'd planned. He didn't take his eyes off Sebastian though, either. 

"Hi everyone," the new speaker said. "You may know me as Hugeman Jack, or maybe you don't. But my real name is Logan Howlett, and I'm a Mutant-American."

"I thought he was Canadian," Darwin said, next to Erik. 

Erik looked up at where Logan was now being elevated above the crowd, still speaking. "Most of you know I work in porn. And there's a reason for that. With the laws the way they are, we mutants aren't allowed to work too many places."

The sound of the crowd lulled. Logan seemed to hesitate. "I'm not real good at speaking in public," he said gruffly. "Honestly, that's about all I had to say. Except, of course, this--"

Erik was astonished to see three bone claws emerge from the fist Logan pumped in the air before he roared, "MUTANT AND PR--"

Before he could finish the word, a deafening explosion rocked a nearby metal trash can, only fifty feet away from Erik and his friends. Erik instinctively repelled any metal flying in their direction, but he could see people on the other side of the trash can hit and bleeding from flying metal fragments. He cursed the limitation of his ability and ran towards the trash can even as hundreds of mutants ran screaming away from it. He passed Sebastian, who was standing close to where the trash can had been before it exploded, looking dazed but otherwise unhurt. Erik ignored him and knelt down before a lizard-like man who had a twisted piece of metal trash can embedded in his upper thigh and a scaly green face face screwed up in pain.

The lizard guy grabbed his arm. "Please, don't let the ambulance take me," he said, his yellow eyes darting around wildly. "They'll take me to a lab, try to cut me open. They've done it before."

Erik swallowed. He'd heard stories, of course all mutants had. "Okay," Erik said. "I can get the metal out of you mostly painlessly, but it's going to bleed a lot when the metal's out. You'll need antibiotics."

Lizard-man shook his head. "I won't need antibiotics. My mutation. But yeah--" he winced "--the bleeding will be bad."

Erik looked up to see that a small crowd had gathered. "Does anyone have a spare shirt, or fabric?"

A woman with three eyes hesitated and then took off an overshirt and handed it to Erik. "Here."

Erik started methodically ripping up the shirt, using other shards of the trash can lying nearby and manipulating them with his power to make faster work of it. 

Lizard-man was still clutching his leg, clearly in pain, but patiently trusting Erik. "My name's Erik," he told the scaly-skinned man.

"Phil," the mutant replied.

"Phil," Erik inhaled. "I don't want you to think I have medical training. I don't. But my mutation is controlling metal, and I can liquify the metal in your leg and pull it all out of you without risking further damage. It should be relatively painless, but dealing with the bleeding is not my forte."

"My mom was a nurse," a man said nearby. "I know what to do." 

Erik looked up and saw it was the purple chainsaw-juggling mutant from earlier. "Thank you," he said. The purple man got into place and nodded to Erik, who told Phil, "I'm starting now," as he began concentrating on melting the metal without changing the temperature and pulling it out of Phil's body through the existing wound. The metal lumped into the sand next to him as he worked, as quickly as he safely could, and within three minutes the purple mutant was wrapping the makeshift bandages around Phil's leg. 

Erik looked up to see if anyone he knew was in sight and he was pleased to see Darwin and Angel helping another victim while Raven and Azazel helped a third. Besides those three, nobody seemed to be seriously injured and Erik breathed a sigh of relief. 

Logan came walking up just then. "Everyone ok?" He rolled his neck. "I would have been here sooner but I broke a couple limbs when that telekinetic dropped me."

Although he didn’t doubt that was the truth, Erik felt an irritation towards Logan anyway. Something about the man just didn’t sit right with him.

**

Erik and Darwin stayed long enough for the police to arrive and gather their statements. None of the mutants with visually-obvious mutations stayed for that; it was taken for granted that LA cops were much less likely to be abusive to mutants who could pass as human. Still, Erik and Darwin were careful to say "Sir" and be respectful as they recounted what they'd seen, leaving out parts as appropriate; Erik didn’t mention Phil the Lizard Man, or what Erik had done for him. 

It was very late by the time they headed back to Erik's car. As they left Venice beach, Darwin suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, staring at a young man with dirty blond hair leaning against a graffitied building. "Alex?" he said, taking a tentative step towards the man. 

The man's face snapped up to Darwin's and held his gaze. He was wearing a dirty beige coat and camouflage pants, and the overstuffed backpack sitting next to him indicated he was probably homeless. 

The man sighed and tried to smile, but it looked like his face had forgotten how. "Darwin. Hey."

Erik wasn't sure if he should leave the two men to speak privately or not, but Darwin said, by way of introduction, "Erik, this is Alex." He hesitated and added, to Alex, "Erik is just a friend."

Alex nodded at Erik. "I know who you are." He had a surprisingly deep voice. "I was supposed to be in that movie with you, until..." he gulped and looked away. Erik tried to visualize this man working in porn, and he could see it, just barely. Clearly he was very attractive, but in addition to being somewhat dirty he also seemed pale and thin, almost like he was--

"Alex, are you sick?" Darwin said abruptly, with concern, voicing the words in Erik's mind. Alex looked down and then back up almost like it was a challenge. He snorted and shook his head at Darwin. 

"I thought you knew," he said. "I failed my STD panel last month. That's why I got yanked off the film." Alex looked at Erik. "That's why I can't work."

Darwin shook his head. "No. I didn't know that, Alex. I just knew you were gone." He took a step closer to Alex and Erik decided to give them some privacy.

"Darwin, I'm gonna--" Erik pointed towards his car. Darwin nodded and waved, clearly distracted. "Nice meeting you, Alex." Alex didn't respond; he only had eyes for Darwin.

Erik checked his phone and he had several panicked texts from Charles. He could tell by scanning the texts that Azazel had teleported Raven home about an hour before and Charles was beside himself with worry about Erik. Erik sent him a quick text that he was fine and would call when he got home as he saw a dejected Darwin walking towards his car. Alex was not with him.

He opened the door for Darwin in silence. The two men drove without speaking for a while before he said, "Erik, how do you know Sebastian Shaw?" 

Erik gripped the steering wheel tightly. "He's my landlord," he said. _And he rapes me once a month._

Darwin sighed. "Did you know he's also your boss?"

Erik looked at Darwin in alarm. "What are you talking about? I thought you said he was _your_ boss?"

"Shaw and a silent partner are co-owners of a private corporation called Shaw Holdings, which owns HSP--Human Sexuality Productions, the ones producing your superhero film." Darwin paused to let this sink in. 

Erik said slowly, "So Shaw Holdings also owns your company? Hellfire distribution?" 

Darwin nodded. "Yes, but that's not all. Shaw Holdings also owns your apartment building."

Erik felt like he might be sick. "How do you know all this?"

Darwin sighed. "I have to wear a lot of different hats at my job, sign off on a lot of things. None of this corporate stuff is a big secret, to me. But with what happened to Alex, I suddenly realized how bad it is."

Erik gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. "He kicked Alex out of the building."

"It's worse than that," Darwin said bitterly. "Shaw is the one who first gave him smack so he could get through filming some rough sex scenes. And there's probably even more to it than that; Alex hates to talk about it."

Erik, unfortunately, had a very good idea what Alex didn't want to talk about.

"Is he homeless?" Erik asked, even as he realized he knew the answer to that question, and quickly changed it. "Can't he stay with you?" 

Darwin laughed hollowly. "Erik, buddy, there's a reason you've never been to my place. I still live at my momma's home in South Central, and I share a bedroom with two of my brothers. That little ‘mutant’ note on my ID means I won’t be able to get my own place for a long time.”

Erik closed his eyes for a second and wished he hadn't spoken. 

"Anyway, he's too proud to accept help," Darwin continued. "But I think I'll be visiting Venice more frequently." He smiled weakly at Erik.

**

Erik was drop-dead tired by the time he got home, but he called Charles anyway.

"Please tell me you are all right," was the first thing Charles said to him. 

Erik lay back on his bed and closed his eyes, letting Charles' lovely British lilt sooth him. "I am pretty far from alright, but I feel better just hearing your voice," he said honestly.

He heard an exasperated sigh. "Oh, Erik. Were you close to the bomb when it went off? Raven said you were amazing, by the way. And she said to tell you specifically that she approves, although, who wouldn’t, I mean, really. She said you immediately ran to help people and gave someone medical attention? Are you even trained?..."

"Charles," Erik said he felt more tired than he could ever remember feeling. He was torn between wanting to hear Charles and wanting all the questions to stop. "Please, can we talk about this another time?"

Charles immediately went silent. "Of course. I'm sorry."

Erik felt like he had so much to tell Charles, so many important things, unpleasant things, but he could not stay awake another minute. "I want to see you," he whispered into the phone. "Can I see you tomorrow?"

"Oh, Erik, I'm so sorry but I have to work tomorrow. Maybe we..."

Charles might have said more but those words were the last words Erik heard as he fell asleep, in all his clothes, with his cell phone pressed to his ear. The same words would be ringing in his head as he woke up the next morning and realized their importance.


	9. The Fight

Friday

"Frankie," Louie said in an affectionate voice as Charles arrived at the studio Friday morning, his arms held up in welcome. Charles was somewhat taken aback; Louie genuinely seemed to like him in that moment, and it was the first time Charles had ever really felt that from the director. 

"Oh, hello, Louie," he said in his Valley-boy voice, as he had long since learned to stay in his "Frankie" character until the end of a shooting day. Charles was wearing the bald cap, but he had his blonde wig with him, too. 

"Frankie, before we do anything else this morning, me and you need to have a heart-to-heart. I owe you a big apology for my behavior last week. This film is all about you, baby, if you're not happy then people ain't payin' to see this."

Charles nodded with a small frown, thinking about what he was hearing. It was an apology, but it was also Louie very honestly stating that his money-making agenda was the reason for the apology. But, he was honest.

Louie watched Charles until he saw a small nod of acknowledgement. and he took a deep breath. "Okay. Okay, great. I am very clear on what your contracted boundaries are, now, and I want to see if we can discuss a few items that are currently a gray area as regards today's shoot."

Louie said the words carefully, as if he had practiced them; as if he'd been coached. Charles was bemused. "What items, specifically?"

"Well--" Louie looked distinctly uncomfortable. "With Hugeman in the flick now, management feels some higher production values may be called for. You and Hugeman have good chemistry, and if we film today's scene just the right way, there may be some critical acclaim in it for both of you--not to mention a financial benefit for the production company."

Charles sighed to himself. He wished the man would just get to the point, but he could tell Louie was trying to be very careful of what he no doubt perceived as Charles' delicate sensibilities. "Sounds good," said Charles, with a carefully reasonable tone. "What do you need me to do?"

Louie still seemed tense. "As regarding the contracted--" Louie sighed and deflated. "Fuck, I can't say all the words they told me. Basically we want you and Hugeman to have rough sex, except you're the bottom today. I know you didn't like that too much when you were with Magianto, and I'm real sorry about that. Truly. But it's what people want in a scene like this! And, I saw you in _Wanted_ , that had some dubious consent kinda things in it..." Louie trailed off, looking more anxious than ever.

There was no "No simulated rape" clause in his contract, and Charles knew it, and now his bluff was being called. It's true that in _Wanted_ Charles had been willing to portray a victim of sexual assault, but it had been because he connected with the director, he trusted his co-star, and because there had been an actual script that actually tried to tell a story. The scene Charles was being asked to film for the current 'Untitled XXX Superhero' movie only met one of those criteria--Charles did trust Hugeman Jack. It would have to do; for the business he was in, Louie was making a reasonable request.

Charles sighed. "It's fine, Louie. I'm sorry I didn't have my head together last week. I'm not used to topping," he offered as an excuse, although he wasn't sure how much that had been a factor, really. "I would like to talk with Hugeman in advance, though, if that's all right."

Louie looked visibly relieved. "Oh, great. Yeah, of course, anything you need, Frankie." The short man lowered his voice. "Anything else I can get you to make your day better? Coke? Weed? Ecstasy?"

Charles started to shake his head and then hesitated. "Bottle of scotch?" 

Louie grinned hugely as he stepped away. "Absolutely. Absolutely, Frankie, it would be my honor, and may I say how great it is to work with such a professional."

Charles had mixed feelings about Louie's request. He didn't mind rough sex so much; in fact, in his personal sex life, he often enjoyed involving biting, or slapping, or hair pulling. And normally, enjoying work was not a bad thing. Except in this case, it was, because although he knew he still had to work, he really didn't _want_ to enjoy sex with anyone except Erik. Not that they'd had a conversation about it, but Charles wanted to hold some part of himself aside, something special just for Erik. Kissing seemed too small of a token. 

And the other factor...just then, Logan walked out of the dressing area, naked, to have a smoke, and Charles breath caught for a moment. The man definitely had an impressive body. And that was part of the problem...since he had first met the man, Charles had had the tiniest crush on Hugeman Jack. Barely a crush at all, he told himself, and it was only because Hugeman--Logan--had been the first person in the adult film business to show him any kindness, and of course since Hugeman was straight, he was essentially unattainable and therefore a very safe person for Charles to feel attracted to. And today he was going to have sex with the man, which was both exciting and guilt-inducing at the same time. He wasn't supposed to enjoy this. He didn't want to enjoy it. 

"Morning," Logan called to Charles, lighting his cigar and walking over to Charles. "Louie told me the game plan." Logan squinted at Charles. "I thought we should talk about what's okay and what's not."

Charles swallowed and nodded. "Yes, please. I believe you're topping--"

"That goes without saying," the larger man muttered. 

"Right," Charles said, feeling a touch annoyed by that comment for some reason. He wondered how long until his Scotch got there. "I don't kiss on the mouth, and no genital contact without a condom."

Logan nodded. "Even if I touch your dick with my hand? Or you touch mine?"

Charles hesitated. "No, that's fine."

"Okay. Soo...the other stuff. Can I pull your hair? Bite you? Slap you?"

Charles was enormously embarrassed to feel the beginnings of an erection. At least he wasn't naked, yet. "That's all fine, as long as you don't break the skin. Or get too carried away."

Logan looked surprised, and immediately hid the reaction. "Okay, so I guess semen play is out of the question. Can I spit on you? And, oh yeah, do I have to use a condom if I'm gonna finger you?" Logan's tone didn't change, he just looked at Charles for his responses. 

Charles was mortified to feel his cheeks getting red as his erection also became more pronounced _Charles Xavier, you are a fucking porn star; you're NOT getting aroused by the professional negotiation of work terms_ , he told himself, but for some reason his penis wasn't getting the message. "Excuse me, I'll be right back," he mumbled, thinking he would see if Louie had acquired his requested bottle of Scotch yet. But he saw a flash of realization on Logan's face as he turned away and although he walked quickly, it wasn't quickly enough to avoid Logan's hand on his shoulder, stopping him. 

"Charles." Charles stopped immediately. He wondered how Logan knew his real name, and then realized that Raven had mentioned he'd been at the Mutant Rights Rally - probably it came out them. He heard Logan sigh. "You're not the only one this is awkward for, you know." 

Charles turned around to face the man again as Logan continued. "I know you and Erik are together; how fucking weird is it that I fucked him two days ago, and today I fuck you?" 

"I don't want to enjoy it," Charles blurted out. "But I'm afraid I will." He looked down. 

"You know...if I was into men, I'd give Erik a run for his money," Logan said with a grin.

Charles glared. "That is _not_ helping."

"Aw, Chuck, look, if you _can_ enjoy what you gotta do anyway, you might as well," he pointed out. "And frankly, it'll be easier for me, knowing you aren't disgusted by having to fuck me." He gave Charles a pointed look. "Your boyfriend made it pretty clear that I am not his type."

Charles pursed his lips. "No spitting, no semen play, and you can finger me without a condom. Okay?" When Logan nodded, he added, "And you'll have to deal with me being a little bit drunk."

Logan frowned at that, slightly, but shrugged it off. "If that's what you need, fine. Do you have a safeword?"

Charles hesitated, for a long moment, and then thought, _This is my safeword._

Logan literally jumped. "What? You're a telepath? Chuck, why didn't you say? Why didn't you come to the rally last night?"

 _The fewer people who know, the better off I am,_ Charles thought back to him. _I don't trust many people with this, but I trust you. Please keep my confidence._

"I--of course, Chuck." Logan hesitated. "So, uh, also, sometimes I get--carried away. Will you be able to talk to me in my head if that starts happening?"

"Better than that, I can make you stop, if necessary," Charles said, calmly. "Although I hope it won't come to that. And please stop calling me Chuck," Charles added, peeved. "Here, I am Frankie."

**

Erik woke up abruptly, as if someone had just slapped him. He gasped and looked around. It was full-on day outside, he saw out his bedroom window, and he was still fully dressed laying on top of the covers. He felt disoriented and tried to remember what had happened yesterday - the Mutants Rights Rally, the explosion, meeting Alex, then he came home and talked to Charles...

Charles. He wanted to see Charles. But Charles said he had to work. 

Erik lay in the bed as that word flipped over in his mind. Work. Something about that bothered him. Erik usually only worked a few days a week, he last worked on Wednesday when he fucked Logan--

Erik sat upright. That's what Charles meant by work. They were filming today. Charles was going to fuck Logan today. 

Erik felt his pulse speed up and he rolled out of bed and staggered to the bathroom to splash some water on his face. Charles was fucking Logan.

Erik put his palms on his eyes and tried to get the thought out of his head. He didn't want to think that. He'd managed to avoid thinking it for days. He didn't want to envision his sweet Charles being fucked in the ass by that muscled mass of man--

Erik realized he was yelling, not words, but a loud guttural noise. _Get a hold of yourself, Lehnsherr,_ He thought. He took a few deep breaths. Okay, that was better. Put it out of your mind. Just breathe. 

_I will go for a run,_ he thought and winced as the image of Logan coming on Charles' face flashed behind his eyes. No. Running. _I am running._

Erik left for his run without changing clothes. He ran like someone was chasing him. He was out about ten minutes before he realized what he needed to do to set his mind straight. _I am making it worse than it is by trying to imagine what is going on,_ he told himself. _What I really need is to be there to see exactly what's going on--I'll see how awkward it is, I'll see that it's not really that bad as I'm thinking. It can't be._

Erik did a one-eighty and ran back to his apartment. He thought he remembered from the filming schedule that today was a 10:00am call, and it was 10:20am now. He knew from experience they wouldn't be filming for at least an hour after the call time, but still...he ran faster.

**

Erik knocked on the studio door, wearing a baseball cap pulled low. Hank answered the door, as expected, and he recognized Erik immediately.

"Max...I'm not sure its such a good idea that you're here," Hank said slowly. "They're just about to start filming..."

"That's, uh, why I'm here," Erik said, as his mind raced to improvise a reason. "I want to--get out--from in front of the camera. I want to learn your job, actually," Erik said in a sudden burst of inspiration. 

Hank looked doubtful. "My job? I'm basically a gofer on a porn set, is this a joke?"

"Well, I thought you, you know, monitored the action and made sure everyone has what they need--you're really good at that, actually," Erik said, and he was being honest, but he was also desperately trying to flatter the awkward young man. 

"Well, um, thanks." Hank looked at him for a moment, and then sighed and held the door open enough for Erik to get in. 

"Thank you, Hank, I appreciate it. Is there a monitor, maybe someplace I can watch and not be in the way?" Hank gave him a _You're not fooling anyone, you know_ look and let Erik to a small room with a television monitor and a chair in it. 

"They told me they used this room for fluffing, before Viagra," Hank said, looking to see Erik's reaction to his words. Erik didn't hear, as he was focused on the monitor the second he walked in the room. Hank sighed and left the room. 

The monitor was color, but it was small for a TV, maybe 12 inches. Erik gulped and wondered if he shouldn't have come as he watched the scene beginning. 

**

"How did you get out of the dungeon, Wolfman?" Charles cried, as Doctor XXX, backing away from the larger man. "I secured you and Magianto myself!"

"Oh, yeah, your friend Magianto," Wolman/Logan sneered. "We had some fun together."

"You didn't hurt him, did you?" Doctor XXX was now backed into a corner.

"You should be less worried about your favorite pet, and more worried about _me_ ," Wolfman said as he lunged for Doctor XXX. He grasped the smaller man's arm and threw him on a conveniently placed nearby bed, then theatrically slapped him across the face. 

There was a rumbling sound, and a slight shaking in the building. Charles hesitated, not sure if he was feeling an earthquake. _Should we stop?_ he mentally requested of his more experienced co-star.

 _Nah, they'll cut if they need to,_ came the response. 

Well then. Charles was a little drunk, as he had told Logan he would be, and therefore warm, and he surreptitiously tugged at his bald cap as he let Logan's slap turn him around. Louie had asked him to wear the blonde wig under the bald cap because he wanted the bald cap to come off at some point so Frankie XXX's fans could see him they way they wanted and expected to see him: with long blonde hair. But the bald cap was incredibly tight and uncomfortable with all that hair under there, so Charles wanted to get it off as soon as possible in the scene. 

Now he was on his knees, on the bed, and Logan grasped his ass firmly with both hands and squeezed his cheeks, tightly. Charles gasped- that would bruise. Wolfman growled and bit one cheek, hard, but not hard enough to break the skin. Doctor XXX yelped in pain. 

Another earthquake struck, and there was a static noise in the air. Charles shot an uncertain look at Louie, who gave him the hand signal for 'keep rolling'. 

Logan plunged two fingers deep inside him and Charles cried out. That was a little unexpected, but it's not like he hadn't prepared himself anally earlier, as he always did before he bottomed. Wolfman pushed Doctor XXX down flat on the bed and impatiently pulled off the rest of the bald cap with his left hand so he could get a firm hold on a handful of blonde hair. Or not so firm--Charles desperately tried to keep his head up so the fact that the blonde hair was a wig wouldn't be so obvious. With his right hand, Wolfman was still roughly finger-fucking Charles, and Charles might have even enjoyed it if it weren’t for the discomfort from the whole wig situation.

Logan finally let go of Charles' hair and Charles gratefully let his head go forward and hit the mattress. 

_Condom is on, are you ready? Can I come in hard?_ Logan's voice was in his mind. 

_Yes, please. I'm going to scream; but I'm acting, don't be freaked out,_ Charles thought back, wondering if the 'please' was too much.

Charles had a hazy drunken impression that there was something both wonderful and terrifying in the air, something both intimately familiar and new at the same time. Something about the recurring earthquakes...something was both comforting and awful, at the same time.

Logan plunged his cock into Charles' well-prepared ass and Charles let out a blood-curdling scream. Even Louie looked impressed. 

A major earthquake hit just then, although it was odd because everything except the ground seemed to be shaking, and there was no doubt in anyone's mind that they need to seek shelter. There was a loud roaring too--

_ERIK._

Charles suddenly realised what was so comforting and awful all at once - Erik was here, somewhere, watching. Charles stomach twisted. 

"HOWLETT, I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU," Charles could hear Erik roar from another room in the building and Charles gasped as the wall of the room they were in suddenly splintered as every piece of metal in the wall exploded out of the wall and destroyed a chunk of it. 

Logan still had his cock buried in Charles' ass. He withdrew, snarling, to face the newly opened wall just as Erik walked through it. Charles' eyes widened as bone claws came out of Logan's hands and he lunged for Erik--

 _ **"STOP,"**_ Charles screamed. It was a mental imperative. Everyone froze. The earthquake-feeling and static in the air stopped. Erik and Logan were facing each other, about five feet apart, with matching scowls on their frozen faces. 

Charles walked over to Erik and mentally freed him enough to move his face and head only. 

Erik's eyes snapped to Charles. "I'm gonna fucking kill him," He said, glaring at Logan. "This guy was raping you on camera--"

"No, he wasn't, Erik," Charles snapped. "He was doing his job, which at that moment happened to be fucking me in the ass."

Erik winced to hear those words. "Have you been drinking?" he gritted out. 

"Yes, Erik, I've been _fucking_ drinking," he answered. "Because I'm working. I'm working because I need to, and I'm drinking so I can get through this. And you have put my job, and yours, into jeopardy by acting like a child having a temper tantrum. Did you think I would quit my job because I fell for you? Because I certainly never said that. In fact, I told you recently that I _couldn't_ quit."

"You screamed," Erik said his voice harsh from his own screaming. "He was hurting you."

Charles sighed. "We negotiated earlier what was okay and what wasn't, and I was communicating with him telepathically, as well. Erik, look around you. I am not in any danger."

Erik looked around. Everyone else was frozen, Louie and Hank in shock, Logan's face twisted up in a scowl, one meaty, bone-claw-ornamented fist angled towards Erik. 

"You're doing this," he stated, like he just realized that. "You're keeping them frozen." He looked back to Charles. "Well, I'm not leaving."

"Yes, you are. You are going to leave right now." Charles told him, and added softly, "Or I'll make you. And I don't want to do that."

Erik set his jaw. "Make me, then."

Charles gave Erik a puzzled and annoyed look. Did he think Charles was bluffing? Charles put his fingers to his temple and said, "Erik, **_go home._** " 

"Good idea," Erik said, and left. 

Charles took a deep breath and went to find his bottle of scotch before he unfroze everyone.

**

Erik had driven most of the way to West Hollywood before he had agency over his own actions again. He could remember everything he did, he remember saying "Good idea," and walking to his car and driving home. At a word from Charles he'd simply dropped his whole agenda. 

Erik shivered. He'd had no idea, before, how powerful Charles was. And for a moment, for a brief moment, he understood why humans were so terrified of mutants. But Charles wouldn't use his power to hurt anyone, he thought. Except he did - he'd hurt Erik; he taken away his very freedom. Briefly, true, but it was against Erik's will, and he felt hurt and angry about it. And--he was fucking Logan. Of course, a part of him could recognize that it was unreasonable and unfair of Erik to be upset about that, but he was anyway. 

Erik arrived at home and paced for about twenty minutes before he did anything else. He pulled out his phone and looked at the contact named "Angel - Flying Hottie" for about 20 second before flipping past that to "Darwin." He dialed.

"Hey, Erik," Darwin answered. 

"Hey, Darwin. You wanna come over today, play some Grand Theft Auto?" 

"Uhh, well, I'm working for another five hours, but I could come over after work."

Erik gripped his phone tightly. "Yes. Please."

There was a moment of silence. "Is everything ok, man?"

Erik choked as he started to respond. "Not really. I could use a friend."

"I'll be there. See you soon."

So, he only had five hours to kill. At times like this, Erik wished he drank. He turned on the television to find three news television programs covering the "Mutant riot" that had occurred the night before in Venice. 

"We didn't riot; we were fucking _bombed_ ," he yelled at the TV and turned it off. He decided to take a nap.

**

After the shoot, Charles was exhausted and hung over in the dreary unpleasant way one feels when one has recovered from being drunk without sleeping. He had a few more marks on his body than he usually did after filming sessions, a couple bruises, some bite marks, and at least one hickey, but he wasn't really hurt; he ached everywhere, of course, but that was to be expected. And his fear that he would enjoy it...Charles laughed humorlessly. No, that hadn't come to pass. Erik's unexpected appearance had quite effectively ruined the mood.

Oh, Charles had made everyone forget that Erik had done the damage to the wall, of course, and made them believe that the cause of the destroyed wall was an electrical explosion in the wall. If HSP management knew the truth, Erik would have been fired, sued, and/or potentially had criminal charges pressed against him--or even have been taken outright by the government under some "dangerous mutation" excuse. Maybe Erik _was_ a dangerous mutant, Charles mused. 

But if that was the case, then Charles was more dangerous. 

There was a FedEx box on his front porch when he got home. Charles frowned at it until he saw the return address - HSP. Oh, right. What he was supposed to wear for that party tomorrow.

Charles opened the box and stared in disbelief at the contents. Gold lame boyshorts, a gold lame bow-tie, gold lame knee pads ( _in your dreams,_ Charles thought with a snort), and a pair of gold-colored in-line skates. Hmm, now the kneepads made more sense. There was a slip of paper with the Sherman Oaks address of the Essex residence, and a check for $5000. 

Well, finding the check made the whole thing a little better, but he still wondered if this was _all_ he was supposed to wear. He closed his eyes and thought of not working in porn ever again and thought, yes, I can do this party. Especially since not working in porn would appease his apparently jealous boyfriend.

If he still had a boyfriend. As upset as Charles was, he knew he had violated Erik - not by fucking Logan, because that was his job, but by taking control of his mind. Charles hated doing that. He told himself it wasn't a big deal, he did it more to protect Erik than anything else, but he didn't know how Erik felt about it, or where he stood with Erik right now. Charles checked his phone; there was no missed calls or texts. Maybe Erik was still angry with him, or maybe he was questioning the wisdom of them seeing each other at all.

Charles felt a lump in his throat. He was still angry at Erik, and wasn't ready to talk to him. But he thought Erik would have wanted to talk to _him_. 

_I'm as childish as I accused Erik of being,_ Charles thought unhappily. He looked at his phone. It didn't ring. 

Just then, Charles heard Raven at the front door. He hurriedly scooped the ridiculous gold lame clothing and skates into the FedEx box and tossed it in his room as Raven entered. 

"Hello," Charles greeted his sister with a smile, sitting on the couch. 

Raven looked at him and sat down next to him. "What's wrong, Charles."

Charles dropped his happy facade and exhaled. "I'm supposed to be the telepath in this family."

Raven snuggled up under his arm until he dropped it over her. "You stink," She said, wrinkling her nose. "I guess you saw Erik today."

Because he smelled like sex. Charles coughed and took his arm back. "Yeah. We had a fight."

"Oh, Charles, I'm sorry." And she did seem genuinely sorry about it. "What happened?"

He shook his head. "I really don't feel like talking about it."

"Okay." she said quietly, and didn't speak for a few minutes. Then she said, "Do you feel like renting a DVD and eating a pound of chocolate ice cream?"

What he _really_ felt like was getting blind drunk, but what Raven suggested also sounded good. And he could do it with his sister. "Yes," he told her. "Yes I do." He stood up. "After I take a shower."


	10. The Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes for Content/Trigger warning

Three years prior

Charles and Raven had moved out to Los Angeles in the fall of 1999 from their native New York when she started college at 18, when he was fresh out of grad school. Charles had promised to support Raven because that's the only way she would agree not to join the military; because even before the Sept 11th attacks led to American forces being deployed and killed in Afghanistan, the United States military did not have a good track record with mutant recruits, to put it mildly. There were rumors about painful experiments and permanently maimed mutants. Fortunately, upon moving to Los Angeles, Charles immediately got hired to teach one biology class at Pierce College, so he felt that his promise to Raven of support was a realistic one.

But by April of 2001, Charles was getting desperate.

He and Raven had grown up with money, but after their father's death their mother remarried and their stepfather all but cut them off. Their mother was too busy drinking herself to death to notice or get involved, so Charles hadn't had any contact or financial help since they'd moved out. Charles hadn't really been able to conceive, previously, of what financial problems were. His one teaching class didn't even cover half the of rent of their dumpy little apartment, let alone Raven's out-of-state tuition or his student loan bills, and a little over a year into his Los Angeles experience Charles had run through his savings and was racking his brain to try and think of other ways to earn money.

He applied to college teaching jobs all the time, and with the number of colleges in greater Los Angeles he felt like he should be able to get more than one Biology 101 class. When few job interviews materialized, he started applying for credit cards and loans to get by, but with such a low income he couldn't get any of those either. 

So, he hung out in bars. This was not a solution but a distraction from an insoluble problem. The afternoons were his favorite time to prowl; Raven had class, and it was happy hour, and he had a line that worked very well: "Buy me a drink?" with a slightly uplifted mouth and a twinkle in his eye. It rarely failed, although it did sometimes lead to a quick and dirty handjob or blowjob (if the guy was willing to give or receive oral sex with a condom; Charles had been fastidious about that before he'd even started working in porn.) 

Charles wasn't concerned with preserving his self-respect; he just wanted to drink as much as possible for as little cost as possible. In April of 2001 there was one man he started always seeing in the bars at happy hour. He was not an attractive man, and in particular there was an ugliness to the thoughts that spilled off him. Although the man watched Charles like a hawk he never approached him. 

One day, near the end of happy hour, Charles was in a bar and the unattractive man was there as well. Charles had had only one drink and he was just buzzed enough to be annoyed that he wasn't drunker by the end of happy hour. Besides the man, the only other people in the bar were a lesbian couple and a straight woman who had already turned Charles down. Charles sighed inwardly and approached the man with a bright smile. "Buy me a drink?" he said, with a charmingly tipped head and eyebrows raised in supplication. He knew it was charming because he practiced it. 

The man looked at him appraisingly. "I'd wondered when you'd make it to me," he murmured. He ordered the best Scotch the bar carried for Charles and Charles blinked in surprise. Normally he'd give a handjob at least for a drink like this but he didn't want to touch the man. 

"I'm not going to fuck you," Charles said, looking the man in the eye while his hand hovered near the drink. One thing he had learned in gay bars was that the discomfort of being blunt was better than the anger that could result from misplaced expectations later. The man didn't say anything for a long moment, and Charles tried not to look at the glass of expensive Scotch.

"Understood," the man said after a moment, in a clipped voice. Charles could tell he was annoyed, normally a sign that he should pass up the drink, but he was pretty sure it was an 18-year single malt and he really wanted it. Charles picked the drink up and sipped it and didn't walk away from the man, which is all he could bring himself to offer. He hated that he felt obligated to offer anything, but he did. 

"Charles," the man said after a moment, "My name is Sebastian Shaw."

Charles took a sip of his Scotch and eyed the older man suspiciously. He wasn't going to ask how the man knew his name; he'd been watching Charles for weeks, after all. But Charles did wonder what else he might know about Charles. Then he said, "I'd like to offer you a modeling job."

The man explained that he wanted Charles to do a photoshoot for a specialty magazine. He explained that the shoot would require nudity and that in several shots Charles would be tied up, and he would be posing with another man, but there would be no penetration. Charles was about to say "Thanks but no thanks, creep," when the man says, "The pay is $600."

That happened to be the exact amount Charles was short for rent, and also was more money than he earned in a month teaching his one pathetic class. He swallowed. "No, thank you," he said. He took another swallow of Scotch, wishing he could drink it faster.

"Why not?" Shaw asked. 

Charles could have given the man any number of half true reasons, but he favored directness in situations like these, so he looked at the man and said, "Honestly?"

Shaw inclined his head. "Of course."

"It's you," Charles said bluntly. "I've seen your mind, and not only will I never fuck you, but I would rather have nothing to do with you again. I certainly don't want to work with you."

Shaw stared at him unblinkingly. Charles could feel rage roiling within the older man, but outwardly he only displayed a small, tight smile. "Mr. Xavier," he said, "If it's simply my presence that is so distasteful to you, I will have my assistant follow-up with you to make the arrangements. I will have no further direct involvement in this project, but I hope for your sake that you will." He stood up and pushed away from the bar. "And I give you my word, I will never have sex with you."

Charles watched the man leave, bemused. He hadn't shared any contact information with the man, and yet the next day a different man called Charles and offered the same gig, and Charles, sweating, thinking about the money, accepted. He didn't fear for his safety; he rarely did, with his ability. He showed up to the shoot only a little drunk in a long blond wig and nobody on the set batted an eye at either of these facts. Shaw kept his word; he didn't see the man again, and the shoot wasn't that bad. The other man he was modeling with was attractive and clean, and Charles got paid in cash that day. Everyone on the set was professional and respectful. 

He sometimes wondered how Shaw had seemed to know so much about him that day, not to mention not bat an eyelash when Charles slipped and said "I've seen your mind," but nothing Shaw said showed that he had knowledge of Charles that wasn't easily explained; it was just an unpleasant feeling Charles got from Shaw's thoughts, and which he had tried stay out of as much as possible. 

When he got a call two weeks later for another photoshoot, he accepted quickly. He got calls more frequently after that, and each one seemed to push his boundaries farther and farther; Charles did his first penetrative live-action scene within two months of the initial photoshoot. He didn't see Shaw again, although he did occasionally hear the name mentioned on-set.

Charles quickly became highly in demand, the hot new bottom in town. He told himself the work was easy and that he could walk away at any time. He planned to quit about four times without being able to stick to it--car repair expenses came up, and then Raven needed some expensive school supplies--before some men crashed planes into the Twin Towers in New York City and his world was transformed. 

The change was shockingly immediate. In August of 2001, nobody knew Charles was a mutant, let alone a telepath. By January 1st of 2002, because of the Mutant Registration Act, he had a drivers license that told every bartender who carded him that he was not only a mutant, but a also a telepath with mind control capability. Every job and every apartment application required identification, and Charles quickly discovered that few people in positions of authority even tried to pretend they were being fair to mutants; he and Raven were blatantly discriminated against more than once. Getting another teaching job had become a distant, almost inconceivable, option, but the people willing to pay him to have sex on camera kept calling.

**  
Saturday Sept 1st, 2002

That Saturday was his first day of teaching at Pierce for the fall semester, but it had ceased being a big deal for Charles, as it marked his sixth time teaching the same Biology 101 class at the community college. Around the time he started working in porn he started wearing glasses with clear no-prescription lenses in them to teach in, because Frankie XXX never wore glasses and Charles was more than a little paranoid about being recognized. 

The usual mental hum from his students could essentially be reduced to _Wow, he's a cutie_ , and Charles had long since stopped being flattered by it. Fortunately that sentiment from the student body kept his enrollment up, but otherwise had no bearing on how Charles treated his students. Class passed as expected and Charles used his office hours to send a draft of the curriculum for the new genetics class at Northridge to the department head there for approval via email. He'd finished it Thursday evening, actually, and was very pleased to be ahead of schedule.

He thought about Erik and sighed. He wanted to call, but thought it would be better to talk with Erik tomorrow after the party, when he could honestly tell Erik, "I'm going to quit porn." He was really, really looking forward to saying that, and he would rather say it when he wouldn't have to add the qualifier "...right after I strut around like a stripper at this party."

Charles arrived at the Essex residence that evening exactly on-time, wearing everything that had been provided: roller blades, gold lame knee pads, gold lame tight boyshorts, and a gold lame bow-tie. He was also wearing his blonde wig, which he was fairly certain was expected, and the ear cuff Erik had given him - it wasn't visible under the wig, and it's presence made a tiny tendril of happiness curl in Charles' stomach. The part of the outfit he thought he might get grief over was the black blazer that he was wearing over the whole damn outfit because otherwise he felt essentially naked--Also, the blazer was the only item he was wearing that had a pocket he could keep his cell phone in. 

"Well, Charles Xavier, what a pleasant surprise," Charles heard before he saw the speaker, after he entered the house. He cringed as he thought he recognized the voice even after more than a year of not hearing it, and he was not happy to have his guess validated. "Sebastian Shaw," he said. "Why am I not surprised that you are here?"

If Shaw heard that comment, he ignored it. "I'd like to introduce you to the host of this party, Dr. Nathaniel Essex." Dr. Essex had an oddly ageless look about him. He could have been anywhere between 40 and 70.

Charles shook the man's hand, aiming to project a mix of charming and sexy professional, when Shaw added, "Oh, I believe you two may know each other in another context--Dr. Essex, don't you work with Mr. Xavier at Pierce College?"

Charles' jaw dropped and his face flushed. _That_ was where he'd heard the name before! The man who referred Charles for his newest teaching position was shaking his hand and Charles was dressed like a rent boy. 

"I--I'm pleased to meet you, Dr. Essex," Charles gulped. "I--thank you, for recommending me to Dr. Cooper at CSU Northridge." Charles knew he was red as a beet, but he couldn't think of a way to acknowledge how he was dressed in an appropriate way and ignoring it completely seemed the better of his options.

Essex looked him up and down and licked his lips. The lust was oozing off him in waves, so it was jarringly disconcerting when he asked Charles, "I understand you are writing a new curriculum for that class at Northridge. How's that coming along?"

"Oh, very well," Charles gushed. "In fact, I finished it today and sent it to the Dean for approval."

"You know, Nathaniel also referred me to you, years ago," Shaw said. Charles looked at him and frowned at the statement. Nothing about it made sense to him.

Essex seemed extremely annoyed with what Shaw had said, and Charles picked up a buzz of mental energy from the man and realized to his surprise that Dr. Essex was also a telepath. Essex snapped his eyes back to Charles, as if daring him to say something about it, before he moved away to talk to some just-arriving party goers.

"You'll have to forgive Nathaniel," Shaw purred. "He has, shall we say, _mixed_ feelings about other telepaths."

Charles ignored Shaw until he walked away. When he finally did, and Charles was left to his own devices, he looked around. The home was large and beautiful, tastefully decorated, set on a private driveway in the foothills that separated the San Fernando Valley from Los Angeles proper. Though only a dozen or so guests had arrived, Charles saw that there were already five or so other "hosts" - young attractive people dressed similarly to himself, all on roller blades. 

A pretty dark-skinned young woman wearing a gold lame bikini on roller blades skated over to him with a big grin. "You must be Frankie," she said happily. "We talked on the phone. I'm Angel."

"Hi, Angel," Charles said with a smile, because it was impossible not to smile at her bubbly demeanor. And then, because he wasn't sure what to say, he asked, "Do you do these kinds of parties a lot?"

She laughed, "Not really," she said, and Charles had to do a double-take when it looked like the beautiful and complex tattoos across both her shoulders rippled for a second. "I'm Sebastian Shaw's assistant."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Charles said sincerely, and Angel's smile faltered for a moment before it came back brilliantly. 

"There are worse things I could do," She said. Charles saw images of scantily clad women standing on dirty street corners in a city he didn't recognize flash across her mind, and the sound of a man's voice saying 'mutant whore,'...There was more, but Charles carefully pushed the thoughts aside to preserve her privacy. He took her hand and squeezed it once, trying to convey as much understanding as he could without giving himself a way as a telepath. Angel smiled at him uncertainly and then looked around the room as if someone might be listening and then lowered her voice. "Shaw wants me in his films, of course, but so far I've managed to avoid doing more than girl-girl scenes."

A new girl, then, if she was still getting away with that. The thought made Charles feel completely jaded and yet he had read enough minds to know that working in the sex industry was a slippery slope--everyone started easy. Still, there was a joy rolling off the girl in waves and Charles was positive he saw he saw the tattoos on her shoulders ripple again. "What's your mutation?" he asked casually, thinking it might have something to do with those tattoos. 

Angel stiffened immediately. "What?" 

_Ooops._ He had picked up 'mutant' in her thoughts. "Oh, sorry, I..." he gestured to her shoulder. "I thought I saw something, and I know that Shaw likes to put mutants in his films. Maybe I jumped to the wrong conclusion." He wanted a drink, and looked around for a bar. "Are we allowed to drink at these things?"

Angel relaxed. "Wow, you are awfully casual about it. I am a mutant but I don't usually let humans know," She said, and there was a small stress on the words 'humans' and an unpleasant connotation in Angel's mind. But Charles decided to drop the subject when Angel pulled a small plastic baggie with several pills in it out of her bikini top. "As for a drink, baby, I've got something better than that."

Charles looked at Angel closely and saw widely dilated pupils and the euphoria rolling off her was stronger than ever. "Ecstasy," he breathed, seeing the answer in her mind. 

She giggled and her shoulders rippled. "I took one about thirty minutes ago," she agreed. "It's just kicking in. You wanna roll, too?"

Charles hadn't taken Ecstasy in months, but he remembered the lovely feeling of it, remembered the feeling that all negative possibilities were gone, leaving only the positive. "Yes please," he said, a little too eagerly. Angel gave him a pill and he was about to swallow it dry when Angel said, "Just a tip--it will hit you faster and harder if you snort it."

Charles hesitated and Angel grabbed his hand and towed him to the kitchen - she seemed to be quite experienced getting around on roller blades, while Charles most definitely was not. The kitchen was cool and vacant with dim lighting. 

Angel shamelessly opened drawers until she found the device she was looking for, which Charles could best describe as a mortar and pestle. There was another word for it in Angel's mind in another language, but it was a fleeting thought. She took a pill and ground it and Charles looked on, keeping his mind alert to the possibility of someone walking in and disapproving. 

"Okay, that should be good enough," she said with satisfaction, brushing the powder into a line on the counter. "Now, something to use...oh, hey, a straw." She held up the straw she had found and grinned at Charles expectantly. 

Charles had snorted coke before, a couple times, before deciding it wasn't his cup of tea, so he shrugged and had already started snorting when Angel said, "I should warn you; it's gonna sting."

 _OW_. Sting was putting it mildly. Charles felt like all of his sinuses were burning his head up from the inside. "Is this how you did it?" He gasped, thumping one hand against the counter as a bitter unpleasant taste dripped down the back of his throat. 

She giggled. "No--I wanted you to catch up!" And then the rippling tattoos rolled off and left her shoulders and became wings that fluttered and lifted her a few inches in the air.

Charles shook his head sharply. "Am I hallucinating already?"

"It's my mutation," she whispered, joy rippling across her face. "I can fly. I love flying. Normally I'm better at it than this," She frowned as her skates touched the ground again. "Maybe the E is interfering."

Charles felt a shiver over his whole body and he gasped--until he realized the shiver was actually the cell phone in his blazer pocket, vibrating. He took out the phone and looked at it with such an expression of confusion and wonder that Angel started laughing hysterically...

"Your face..." she gasped, holding her sides. 

Charles moved his eyes from the phone to Angel, noticing how slowly his eyes were tracking. The drug had certainly kicked in fast. "Someone called me," he said to Angel, looking back at the phone, which by now had stopped vibrating. 

"Who was it?" 

Charles looked at the call record. "My boyfriend," he said, a slow, shy, happy smile gracing his face. He looked up at Angel. "We got in a big fight yesterday, and we haven't talked, and he finally called me." Charles felt such a giddy, honest joy that he laughed out loud, and reached up to touch the ear cuff he was wearing in pleasure. 

Angel laughed, too. "Well, call him back, silly!"

Charles grinned and did just that.

**

Erik had steeled his resolve against calling Charles on Friday. Hanging out with Darwin was a good distraction, and also someone Erik could (mostly) honestly confide in. Darwin was sympathetic to Erik's feelings about Logan fucking Charles without condemning Charles. The one thing Erik didn't share with Darwin was that Charles mind-controlled him into leaving the set; although that was a big part of what had upset Erik, he knew that Charles kept the fact of his telepathy close to his chest, and he honestly wasn't sure if Darwin knew or not. Because of his job in administration there was a chance he did, but Erik didn't want to betray Charles' confidence if Darwin didn't know.

By Saturday morning Erik was aching to talk to Charles again. He knew Charles taught until noon at Pierce, and he thought he might get a call or a text in the afternoon. As the day stretched on, Erik recalled that he had originally asked Charles out on a date for that Saturday evening, and Charles had to change his plans. 

By early evening, Erik became consumed with knowing what made Charles change his plans. Why hadn't he asked Charles at the time? He started pacing, and then realized this kind of attitude is what got him into trouble the day before. He forced himself to consider the very real possibility that Charles had booked another porn shoot. It made something crumple inside him to even consider it, but he forced himself to be logical. Charles needed the work. Charles was a powerful telepath and could mentally force people to do what he wanted them to--or stop them from doing what they wanted to. He was safe. The only problem was Erik.

Erik closed his eyes and sat down. The thoughts were beginning to overwhelm him and he realized, _I just want to talk to him._ So without analyzing it much further, he picked up his phone and called Charles. 

Charles didn't answer, and Erik didn't leave a message because he had no idea what to say, how to begin to unravel the thoughts he was having in a voicemail message. Instead, he decided to use his old faithful shower trick to try and wash away bad feelings. Maybe if that worked, the feelings that remained would be worth looking at. 

Erik took a long, hot shower but he wasn't sure if he gained any clarity from it. After the shower he was thinking about jerking off when he noticed that he'd missed a call and he had a voicemail. From Charles. His heart started pounding.

 _"Erik, I'm so happy you called me! We need to talk about yesterday, and we will--tonight I'm at this party I was hired to be a host at, it's a long ridiculous story, but the worst part is there's this horrible man here that--well, Shaw is technically how I got into porn, but anyway that's not why he's horrible--oh and there's a lovely girl here too and she _flys_ , Erik! Can you imagine?_"

Charles sounded ridiculously happy for the circumstances. It was out of balance compared to the fight they'd had, and the mention of Shaw made Erik's blood run cold. Charles _knew_ him? 

_"I hope you still want to go out tomorrow, although I honestly wish you were here now...I did some E and it would be simply lovely if you were here, even if you're mad at me still...well..just call me back, ok?"_ He heard Charles giggle. _"Maybe I can sneak you in._ " Click.

Erik immediately called him back, but there was no answer. He tried again twice in a row, waited five minutes, and tried again. Worry started to creep up in him even as he told himself _Charles can take care of himself, he's proven it_ warring with _but he's on drugs and he **wants you there.**_

It was the last thought that made up Erik's mind to find out where this party was and crash it. Once he had decided that, he made himself feel calm about it and decided that he wouldn't repeat the mistake he'd made Friday by being angry. Whatever happened, he was not going to be angry. He was going to be cool and calm, the perfect accepting boyfriend; he could deal with anything Charles needed to do to support himself. He hoped. 

Erik exhaled slowly and thought about how he could figure out where this party was. He started with Darwin, because he'd seemed so familiar with Shaw's companies--it seemed reasonable that he would know about this event.

"Yeah, there's some big party tonight in Sherman Oaks," Darwin confirmed and Erik had his keys in his hand before Darwin said, "I don't know exactly where, though. I do know that Angel will be there."

Angel - Flying Hottie. "Ok, thanks," Erik mumbled to Darwin and flipped through his contacts. He took a deep breath and called her.

She sounded very tentative when she answered her phone, but it was encouraging that Erik could hear party sounds in the background.

"Hey, Angel," he said in his sexiest voice. "This is Erik. We met at the Mutant Rights Rally Thursday night?"

"Oh - oh!" There were some muffled noises and then the party noises in the background got quieter. "I didn't expect to hear from you," she said.

"Well, I, uh, came to my senses," he said, wondering if he was laying it on a little thick. 

"That's good to hear, baby," she purred, and Erik felt like an ass. 

He swallowed. "So what are you doing tonight?" he asked boldly. "Anyone threatening you with chainsaws?"

She laughed, and Erik felt guilty for liking the sound of it. "Not yet, but the night is young," she said. "Actually I'm at a party."

"Really," he said, sounding intrigued. "How does one get an invitation to this party?"

"Well..." he couldn't tell if she was being honestly hesitant or if she was just teasing. "Technically I'm working, so I don't know if I'm allowed to invite guests."

Erik's brain turned over the best way to get the address out of her. 

"What if I just happen to show up?" he said. "Would you be allowed to talk to me?" 

He could hear her smile. "Yes."

"Tell you what," he said. "Tell me the address, and no matter how much they torture me, I won't tell them it was you. I'll say some purple chainsaw-juggling mutant invited me."

She chuckled again and paused. "I thought you were seeing someone." 

_Shit._ "Yeah, well, it turns out we were less monogamous than I thought," he said carefully. He had prepared for that question, at least, and answered it honestly--sort of. There was a risk that she would be offended if she thought that his interest in her was fleeting, or just sexual. But some women...

"So tonight may be my only chance, hmm?" She said it low. 

Erik hummed back. "Seize the day," he urged. 

She huffed out a laugh and told him an address quickly, under her breath. He memorized it instantly. "See you soon," he said, and disconnected the call. 

Erik had a plan in his mind. He was going to dress up, wear a suit, and walk in like he owned the place; he would be utterly calm and collected and find Charles and if he walked in on Charles fucking someone else he would just watch and wait and be the perfect porn star's boyfriend. Erik took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He could do this. Charles was worth it.

**  
Charles was standing against a far wall at the party, quietly enjoying the pretty sounds his phone made when he mashed the buttons when Shaw found him. "Charles," the man said gently, taking his arm and turning him so Shaw could see his pupils, "How are we feeling?"

"Very good," said Charles, and it was true, there were good feelings bubbling all around him except that he knew he didn't like Shaw, but he couldn't remember exactly why that was right now and he didn't want to be rude. He smiled at the older man, and the man smiled back. 

"Wonderful," said Shaw. "I think it would be good manners if you thanked Dr. Essex for referring you that wonderful teaching job, don't you agree?"

Charles nodded vigorously. 

"Well then, let's ditch the jacket--tsk, tsk, my boy, we didn't ask you to wear a coat--I'll just put this phone in this jacket pocket, and we'll leave it right here--so you are presentable, hmm?" Shaw smiled at him.

Charles felt much more naked without the coat but he also felt shiny and beautiful, so he said, "Okay," with a smile, and only trembled a little when Shaw took him by the hand to lead him on his rolling skates down a long hallway to a quiet bedroom, with low lighting. The man Charles had met earlier, Nathaniel Essex, was sitting in an easy chair, smoking a cigarette, when Shaw led Charles into the room. 

The man's eyes were on Charles, but he addressed Shaw. "Sebastian, I never should have doubted you."

Charles heard Shaw chuckle behind him. "No, you shouldn't have. I told you it was a worthwhile investment." 

"And he's taken the cocktail?" 

Shaw said "Yes," as Charles said simultaneously, "I haven't been drinking." 

"No," whispered Shaw behind him, too close, "No, you haven't been drinking. But you did take the pill the nice girl gave you. And it's only half what you thought it was."

Charles understood every word, but he couldn't figure out if there was an emotion he should connect to the words. 

"MDMA is lovely," Shaw continued, brushing some of Charles' long blond hairs off his naked shoulder, "and it combines well with a mutation-dampening compound we've been working on." He chuckled and added, "Which has the nice side effect of making the user quite agreeable."

Charles understood that. He checked to see if he could still read minds by extending a tendril of awareness into Shaw's mind and was immediately repelled by the ugliness there. He caught just a hint of Shaw's goals and desires, saw a rush of sexual imagery including Erik's ass, the flash of an explosion in a crowd, and felt a wave of nausea swept over him. He swayed on his skates. 

"Oh dear," Shaw murmured, catching Charles' arm. "Maybe you should sit down. Or perhaps kneel, since you are already wearing the kneepads."

It made sense to Charles, even though there was something he didn't like about it. He kneeled and Shaw petted his hair. "Dr. Essex is also a telepath, did you know that Charles?"

"Shaw, you talk too much," Essex muttered. "Now, where's the 'icing on the cake' you promised me?"

"I brought the horse to water; now it's your turn to make him drink," Shaw sneered.

Essex looked into Charles' eyes. _**"Come here, Charles,**_ " he said. It was a telepathic command. 

Charles inched closer to Essex on his knees, and closed his eyes for a moment as he realized what was coming. He was drugged, but not stupid. 

_**"Suck my cock," ******_Essex said. He took a puff on his cigarette, making no move to open his pants.

Charles was between Essex's knees, but he didn't move. His cheek twitched and he started to tremble. 

"Oh, lovely," breathed Shaw. "He absolutely hates this."

Essex frowned. "Yes, he does, but that's not the problem. He's fighting me, even through the drugs." The man shook his head. "You know how I hate telling you that you're right, Sebastian, but I think keeping this one in porn and out of academia is important. He's too strong of a telepath."

" _Now_ who's talking too much?" Shaw said lightly. He looked down at Charles. "Do you need me to hold him still for you?"

"No," said Essex grimly. "I said he was fighting me, not that he would win. I _will_ have my treat, as well as the new curriculum he was so kind to write for me." Essex stubbed out his cigarette and started to unbuckle his pants and looked at Shaw. "Haven't you gotten what you want out of this yet? Why don't you check on the girls and give me some privacy?"

"I will," said Shaw feverishly. "Just as soon as you start."

Essex rolled his eyes as he finished opening his pants. "You're a sick bastard, you know that, Sebastian?"

Shaw smirked. "It takes one to know one."

Charles had been kneeling, trembling, silently screaming as the panic in him at the words he was hearing pushed out any remaining euphoria from the modified Ecstasy he had taken. He knew he was about to get raped, but it was what Essex said about keeping him out of academia and his comment about the "new curriculum" that was panicking him now, even as his mouth opened at Essex's unspoken command and the man shoved his short fat cock into Charles' mouth. 

"There," Shaw murmured. "I told you I would never have sex with you, Charles. But you're fucked anyway, aren't you?"

Charles didn't look at Shaw, didn't look at Essex, he just looked straight ahead. But at Shaw's words a large tear rolled down one of his cheeks. 

"You saw what you wanted, now get out," Essex grunted, and as Shaw did so, Essex grabbed Charles' head and fucked his face until Charles couldn't breathe and passed out.

**

Charles came to coughing, lying on his side. Shaw was leaning over him, offering him a towel. Charles took it, not understanding, until he realized he was choking on Essex's semen and the he dry-heaved. He wiped his mouth out with the towel and wiped his face and shoulder where he also found sticky residue.

"Jesus, Nathaniel, were you trying to kill him?" Shaw said, sounding annoyed.

Charles' was lying on his side in a way that his back was turned to Essex, but he heard the sound of a lighter, no doubt lighting a cigarette. "He's alive." 

"Let's get you up," Shaw said to Charles, and Charles resented needing Shaw's help to do so, but he realized he'd rather get out of that room as fast as possible and him trying to get on top of the skates he was still wearing would have taken him a lot longer on his own. 

Shaw led him out of Essex's room and further down the hall. "My business partner just can't be trusted with the merchandise," he muttered, and led Charles to another room that was very brightly lit compared to the hallway and Essex's room. Charles blinked, trying to adjust his eyes, and saw that the room looked very much like a porn set. He and Shaw had walked in behind the primary video camera, and what was being filmed was a very blue Raven and Angel, both topless, embracing, kissing. 

Charles wanted to speak, to yell Raven's name, but his words caught in his throat and he just made a quiet choking noise. Shaw was watching him in obvious delight, and he quickly led Charles out of the room. "Oops, wrong room," Shaw said as he shut the door. For a brief, terrible second, Raven and Charles made eye contact before the door shut and before he lost her. "She's auditioning," Shaw said to Charles in a stage whisper. "Well, actually, we showed her some of your best videos, and then gave her a happy pill, and then asked her if she wanted to kiss Angel. Then we asked if we could film it. But effectively it's an audition."

 _Raven knew he did porn._ And now she was drugged and they were trying to get her into the business. Charles should have felt rage. He did, distantly, but more prevalent was a numbness that was the only reason he could still function at the moment. Charles should have stopped both Shaw and Essex with a mental command right then, but his ability was still being hampered by the drug and all he could do was observe Shaw's thoughts, which he wasn't bothering to hide right now anyway. "Why are you doing this?" Charles whispered. 

Sebastian looked at Charles and shook his head in disappointment as he led Charles back down the long hall towards the living room. "Oh Charles, you haven't figured it out yet? Nathaniel and I can't afford to have all you young, strong mutants running around unchecked. So, we have certain--systems in place to prevent that." They emerged into the large living room, where dozens of people were gathered in groups, laughing, talking, happy. 

"Now, my business partner and I have monopolized you long enough! Let's get you back to work, you handsome young courtesan," Shaw smirked at him, and gave him a push towards a group of four men. Charles couldn't remember how to brake using the the skates and he plunged into two of the men, who caught him, laughing. 

Charles felt dizzy, like he was losing touch with reality. "Please, could I have something to drink?" he croaked to the man whose arms he was in. He was desperately thirsty and wanted to clean the vile flavor out of his mouth. 

"Hey, are you Frankie XXX? Holy shit! I'll give you something to drink. How about my come!"

The men laughed as Charles was shoved into another man, whose jacket he clutched at to prevent falling. The new man looked at him "Please," Charles whispered. He could tell from man's thoughts that he wasn't nice, but Charles couldn't get inside his head to try and change his mind - it was too slippery right now, he kept slipping out when he tried to get control. "Slippery," he mumbled. 

"What's that, Frankie? You want to be slippery? I can think of a way to make you slippery..."

Frankie was lowered to his knees for the second time that night. There were mutters of "private room," and "bukkake," and then two of the men grabbed Charles under his arms without letting him get his skates under his feet and took him to another room, a walk-in pantry off the kitchen, amidst mean laughter, where he was forced to his knees again. Charles curled his head to the side and touched the ear cuff Erik gave him, hidden under his hair, the one thing that gave him the tiniest amount of comfort. Then his fear started rearing up and overwhelming him as someone grabbed his ass, and someone else put fingers in his mouth before he violently spit them out. 

"This kitty scratches," one of them men laughed as another one said something about "better restrain him," and Charles closed his eyes and wished that he could lose consciousness again. 

The door to the pantry opened, and someone else came in. "Just who I was looking for," said a pleasant voice, familiar. "Looks like some fun is about to go down."

"There's room for one more," someone said, another said, "Or give us, like, five minutes, and then he's all yours," one said. "As long as you don't mind sloppy seconds, or fifths," another muttered and they all laughed. 

Recognition of the voice trickled it's way into Charles numb mind and he snapped his eyes open and looked at Erik's pale green eyes, the smile on his face belied by his eyes tight with worry, his cheek twitching. Charles brushed his mind and felt _have to be cool, this can't be right, does he want me to be here, should I do something_ and underneath that a carefully controlled anger and fear--Erik was not afraid of Charles mind-controlling him, but more of how Charles would react if Erik tried to get involved again against Charles' will. 

Charles stared straight at Erik, lip trembling. _Help me,_ he thought with all this ability.

Something snapped in Erik, and Charles felt a flood of anger and relief from him all at once. _Duck,_ Charles heard, and he tucked his head the best he could. Within seconds, the metal shelves that lined the small room they were in had wrapped themselves around the four men who had dragged Charles here, and the contents of those shelves had scattered all across the floor, making a mess of broken jars and sticky food substances. 

Erik carefully reached for Charles' hands and helped him up amidst the shouts of the now-restrained men. "Are you okay?" Erik asked Charles, calmly, controlled, as they went into the empty kitchen, shutting the door of the walk-in pantry, ignoring the indignant yells of the men trapped inside. 

"I am very far from okay," Charles responded quietly. "And I need water."

Erik found a glass in a cupboard and watched as Charles filled it up from the tap and swished water in his mouth and spit it out several times. A reason he might want to do that crossed Erik's mind and he started to ask Charles when Charles held up a hand and shook his head. "Not now," he said. "Raven's here. She's doing something--she doesn't want to do. We need to get Raven."

Erik hesitated. He thought about the logistics. Charles clearly was not able to mind control people right now, or he would have stopped that group of men from doing what they were about to. He couldn't leave Charles alone right now, then, and he didn't know where Raven was, although it seemed like Charles did. An idea crossed his mind.

"I could call Azazel," Erik said. "He could get her out in a second." As a teleporter, Azazel would excel at extractions. 

Charles shook his head. "Fine, but it has to happen _now,_ " he said, and Erik picked up the urgency - seconds matter. If Erik had arrived even one minute later than he did--

Erik pushed down that anxiety to be dealt with later. "Lead the way," he said to Charles, following as he dialed Azazel. 

Charles went fast on his skates, hissing at the few people who grabbed at him when he was slowed down by the press of bodies all around him in the living room. Erik had to get rough with a few guys who tried to fondle Charles and glare daggers at a few but they finally made it to the hallway, which was mostly empty of people.

"Azazel, we need an extraction," Erik said into the phone. He told Azazel the address. 

The man grunted. "Who?"

"Raven," Erik snapped. 

That seemed to get his attention. "She's at a party tonight."

"Well, it's not the kind you want your girlfriend at," Erik said, exasperated. "Can you trust me on this?"

Azazel didn't know Erik that well, but after a pause, he said, "I need to check the elevation, but I'll be there soon."

Erik didn't really understand what that meant but he said, "Hurry. Seconds matter," and disconnected just as Charles led him into a room with several men behind cameras where Raven was on her back, staring straight up at the ceiling, and with Angel's head of dark brown curls was nestled between her legs. Erik didn't have much time to comprehend what was happening but it had the feel of a porn shoot.

Raven sat up. "Charles!" she cried. Erik couldn't tell if it was anger, happiness, frustration, or some combination of all those feelings in her voice. Angel and everyone else in the room turned around to face the two of them. 

"Raven, we're leaving," Charles said, in a firm voice that nevertheless trembled. 

She swallowed visibly. "Charles, I--"

Azazel walked into the room. Erik stared at him, impressed despite himself at the speed with which he had arrived, as the three human men in the room muttered and got very uncomfortable. It wasn't everyday one saw a six-foot red devil. 

"Raven, do you want to leave?" Azazel asked, his smoky eyes not betraying if he was upset or moved at all by the scene before him. 

She hesitated, looked around the room, looked last at Charles. Her mouth set in a firm line and Erik thought for a split second how angry and humiliated Charles would be if she said no. "Yes," she said. 

Azazel stepped forward to take her hand and they disappeared. 

Charles turned to Erik. "Can we go now?" He said. His blue eyes seemed dimmer than usual. Erik nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat for whatever Charles had experienced that night, and led Charles outside and into his car. 

"Did--did you drive here?" Erik asked, confused for a moment. 

"Can we just leave?" Charles whispered. 

Erik used his power to feel for Charles' Honda and found it, parked down the street a ways. "Got it," he said, and set up a metal tether between the two cars; Charles car would follow his home at a safe distance. Clearly Charles was in no condition to drive, but Erik had enough of his wits about him to know that trying to retrieve this car later would be a nightmare. So they would tow it home, and hopefully not get pulled over. He felt pleased with himself at this solution, but all pleasure leached away when he looked over to Charles and saw him shivering and Erik realized how little clothing Charles was wearing. 

"Is that all you wore here?" he said. 

Charles didn't look at him and didn't answer for a moment. "My blazer is inside. My phone's in the pocket."

Erik cursed and considered what to do. He wouldn't ask Charles to go back inside. Surely, they were replaceable, but..."Do you want me to get them?"

Charles closed his eyes. "I know exactly where it is," he said, sending Erik a mental picture of the place in the living room where his jacket was in a crumpled heap. 

"Okay," said Erik. He handed Charles his phone. "And, I'm going to fuse the doors of the car shut until I get back, okay?" Maybe it was a little overprotective but Charles just nodded. Erik sprinted back inside the house following Charles' mental directions and picked up the jacket, right where Charles knew it would be. He checked that the phone was still in the pocket and it was. He turned to leave and nearly bumped into Angel.

"Hey, baby," she said to him, softly. "I guess you weren't here for me after all."

She sounded so _resigned_ , like this is exactly what she'd expected, that Erik felt like a piece of shit. He looked into her said brown eyes and didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry," he offered. 

Angel put on a very forced smile. "Don't worry about it," she said. Erik swallowed and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charles is drugged and induced (no violence) into performing oral sex on a man (not Erik).


	11. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of talking, and some more unpleasant revelations, but it ends on an up note. Thank goodness. :)

**

They didn't speak on the drive. Erik focused his thoughts on keeping the empty car he was towing behind them at an appropriate following distance, lights and brakes working when and where they were supposed to. It also helped keep his mind occupied in case Charles picked up surface thoughts--Erik was determined to let Charles start the conversation that Erik desperately wanted to have. He did have his right hand on Charles' knee, for which he received from Charles a faint, distracted feeling of appreciation, like one might thank a waiter for refilling one's water. 

Charles seemed surprised when they pulled up at his apartment building in North Hollywood. "Are you dropping me off?" He whispered.

Erik blinked. "No! I mean, if you want, but I was just thinking that I'd drop off your car. But you could stay, or I could stay with you, or you could come with me back to my place...whatever you want," Erik said earnestly.

It was Charles turn to blink. "My car? How did my car get here?"

"I towed it," Erik said slowly. "I thought you knew." So Charles had been completely keeping out of Erik's mind. That was atypical, and while Erik was relieved that Charles wasn’t being tormented by Erik’s thoughts in addition to whatever he had experienced that evening, it made him feel unexpectedly distant from Charles. 

"No, I--" Charles laughed without humor. "I've been a little wrapped up in myself, I'm afraid."

Erik started to protest but any words he could think of felt thick and awkward; inappropriate for the moment. So he said nothing. 

Charles looked up at his apartment, where a light was shining out a bedroom window. "Raven's here," he said quietly, and turned to Erik. "I hope you don't think less of me for feeling this way, but I just can't see her right now. Can we go to your place?" 

"Of course," Erik says. He thinks _Why would I think any less of you_ , and he wants to tell Charles _It's okay, you don't have to be strong right now_ but most of all he wants to know _what happened_. And since he doesn't know which or any of those things it would help Charles to hear, he again says nothing. 

Erik doesn't have the distraction of towing another car to keep unpleasant thoughts out of his head on the drive from North Hollywood to West Hollywood. He imagines a dozen awful scenarios about what Charles could have experienced that evening, each one upsetting him more. By the time they pulled up at his place, his knuckles were white on the steering wheel and he was grinding his teeth. 

The silence between them was starting to feel thick, and Erik felt an inexplicable tension growing between them. As soon as they walked into his apartment, Charles said, "Do you have any of that white wine left? And spare me your judgement." He sat on the couch. 

Erik felt slapped, but he controlled his response. "You finished the wine last time, but there's beer," he said, going to get one. He made a detour to his bedroom and found a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt that would be too big for Charles, but it was surely better than the party get-up Charles was still wearing. He had lost the blonde wig at some point during the ride in Erik's car.

When Erik returned, with the opened beer for Charles, he said honestly, "No judgement. And here are some clothes, if you'd like to change."

Charles silently accepted the beer, took a sip, put the beer back down and went to the restroom with the clothes Erik had provided. He returned in the new outfit and took a seat on the far side of the couch from where Erik had sat down and picked up his beer again.

Charles looked so small and lost wearing the too-big clothes, and even younger than he usually looked, despite having dark circles under his eyes. Erik wanted to cover him with kisses and never let him leave but he was afraid that Charles didn't want to be touched.

"I'm sorry," Charles said after a moment. "I don't think I'll be ready to talk about it tonight." He was so proper, so controlled, and Erik had to respect that even as he wanted Charles to be genuine and honest with him, no matter what that meant. 

"That's fine," Erik said softly, and hesitated for a moment before saying, "There are some things I need to tell you." 

Charles looked at him with a split-second look of panic before it was covered by a thoughtful frown. Erik felt a nudge in his mind from Charles for the first time since he had looked up at Erik in that pantry, and mentally said _Help me--_

Charles recoiled as if struck. Erik's eyes went wide as he realized Charles saw his recollection. 

"Oh my god, I'm sorry," Erik blurted out.

"It's not your fault," Charles said, pulling himself together again. "I shouldn't have been peeking. I just wanted a heads-up if what you wanted to talk about was--bad, is all. Just--me being a coward." The last words were said so softly they were almost a whisper.

It killed Erik to hear him say that; he felt physical pain that Charles had decided to look into Erik's mind again at exactly the wrong time and had pulled back into himself again, and worse, was blaming himself. At least he felt pretty sure that Charles had pulled out of his mind in time and hopefully hadn't felt that anguish Erik had just felt. 

"Can I hold you?" Erik asked quietly. 

Charles didn't respond for a while, and Erik desperately wanted to touch him but he wasn't going to take any liberties with Charles' person, not after what he suspect happened earlier that night. 

"I would like that," Charles finally said, in a small, quiet voice. 

Erik scooted over and put his arm around Charles, stroking his shoulder, and Charles leaned a little bit against him. Erik kissed the top of his head and noticed Charles slowly melting into him as his breathing slowed. When the beer bottle in Charles' hand started to tip, Erik caught it and put it on the coffee table, still mostly full. He debated waking Charles to move to the bedroom, but Charles seemed so brittle, so fragile, that Erik decided not to move at all, and let sleep claim him as well. 

He awoke a few hours later with Charles standing over him and tugging his arms to follow Charles to Erik's bedroom. He climbed into bed and curled himself around Charles.

**  
Sunday

Erik woke in the morning with sun streaming through his bedroom window. For a moment he was disoriented, but he reached for Charles - and Charles was not there. He immediately thought the worst and cursing, he staggered out of bed and went down the hall where the bathroom door was closed, knocked on it.

"I'm here," he heard, and he sagged against the door with relief. He went to the kitchen to get some water and the bathroom door was opened by the time he got back. 

"I didn't mean to alarm you," Charles said, timidly. "I was thinking I would shower if that's ok?"

"Of course," Erik nodded. He wanted to kiss Charles, or offer to shower with him, but Charles took things at his own pace even when he hadn't been--

Erik stopped that train of thought because Charles was searching his face with keen blue eyes that Erik knew could tell exactly what Erik was thinking. Charles leaned forward and pressed a kiss into Erik's cheek and lingered for a moment.

"Thank you for being so patient with me," he said softly. He started to say something else, but just kissed Erik's cheek again, briskly, and went back into the bathroom and shut the door. 

When Charles emerged from the shower a few minutes later, dressed in Erik’s clothes again, he looked as pale as a ghost. "He's in the building," he gasped to Erik, trembling. 

_Oh shit._ Erik leaped up to steady Charles. "That's one of the things I wanted to tell you last night," he said, angry with himself for not speaking up earlier. "The man you mentioned in your voicemail last night, Sebastian Shaw--I know him. He's my landlord. He lives upstairs." Erik lowered his voice. "Is he responsible for--what happened?" Because knowing Shaw as he unfortunately did, that's what Erik assumed. 

Charles nodded tightly, all of his blood rushing back into his face at once. "Erik, I'm sorry, I think we need to leave right now," he said, still trembling but, to Erik's surprise, with anger. "I think I may do something I regret if we stay in this building."

Erik wasn't sure at all that _he_ would regret Charles whatever it was Charles feared, probably scrambling Shaw's brain, but he nodded curtly and grabbed several changes of clothes for himself and stuffed them in a plastic bag. "Let's go."

**

They went back to Charles' apartment and to Charles' guilty relief, Raven wasn't there. He sat down on his dumpy old living room couch, so different from Erik's sleek leather couch, on shaky legs. 

"Can we go someplace beautiful, calm, someplace without any other people?" he said tiredly to Erik. Even though he felt he'd slept well, he still felt a deep exhaustion, like he wanted to sleep for several days at least. Maybe weeks. 

_Want to touch you_ he felt from Erik, as the man stood in front of him, his cheek twitching, looking at Charles. "Erik, you are welcome. You don't need to ask, not for--affection," Charles was afraid he sounded exasperated, so he added, "But I appreciate your concern about it."

Erik sat next to him on the couch, stroking a lock of hair off his face. "I'd love to take you someplace beautiful," he said, his green eyes looking at Charles's face like he wanted to memorize it. "But,” he adopted a gently teasing tone, “It has to be somewhere we can drive, because I don't have ID to be able to fly, and maybe _you'd_ better drive, too, for the same reason."

Charles couldn't help but snort into his shoulder. "I can get you on any flight you want to get on, Erik," Charles said. Erik blinked rapidly several times in succession. It seemed he forgot, sometimes, what Charles could do. Charles smothered a weak chuckle. "Although you really should figure out something about that whole identification situation. If I'm not around to bail you out or I'm--incapacitated," he paused only very briefly, "--I would hate to see you get arrested, or worse."

Erik pressed his lips together but didn't say anything for a moment. "Are you still--incapacitated?" It was clear last night that Charles had not been able to use his mind-control ability.

Charles frowned. "I don't think so, but it's hard to tell. Unless--do you mind if I...?" he wiggled his fingers at Erik. 

_Anything you need,_ Erik thought back. He felt Charles' mind inside his, felt himself stand up and walk to the kitchen not of his own volition. Then Charles mentally walked him back to the couch to sit beside him, and after a slight hesitation, he kissed Charles on the mouth, a sweet kiss which Erik had been missing so much it almost hurt him to have it again. 

He continued to kiss Charles for several seconds after control of his own body had been returned to him, and then stayed seated next to him on the couch, holding his hand.

"Besides--Shaw in your building--was there anything else that you planned to tell me last night?" Charles could tell from being inside Erik's head that this was the right question to ask, although he didn't know specifics of the answer without looking further than felt appropriate.

Erik nodded. "I have a friend, Darwin, who works at a distribution company Shaw owns, and Darwin told me a lot about Shaw on Thursday night. Apparently he and a silent partner own not only the building I live in, but also the company that's our current employer--the one producing the Superhero flick--Human Sexuality Productions."

Charles did not seem surprised. "I think I may know who his silent partner is," he whispered. He started to tremble and tears came to his eyes. 

Erik's erection caught him completely off-guard. _No, no, NO_ he mentally hissed to his penis, using his ability to pull blood out of it before Charles noticed anything. He was so angry at his body or whatever part of his psyche was in charge of fetishes that he almost didn't follow Charles' next words, and they were important words.

"The man whose home we were at last night--his name is Dr. Nathaniel Essex," Charles said haltingly. "He works in the same department as me at Pierce. He referred me for the job at Northridge. He--he--" Charles exhaled heavily. "He's a telepath, too, and he's a specialist in the same field as me, genetics. He intends to teach the genetics class at Northridge afterall. He wanted me to think I'd gotten the job, because he was fucking _lazy_ and didn't want to write the curriculum," Charles had been steadily growing angrier as he spoke, and by the end he was nearly shouting. Just about the time Erik started to get a bad headache, Charles visibly calmed himself down. Erik's headache slipped out of his head. _The perils of telepaths,_ Erik thought.

"He's known about me for a while," Charles continued, in a more subdued voice. "Possibly before I even started teaching at Pierce. Well before I got into porn."

"Did Shaw tell you all this?" Erik asked. 

"Not directly," Charles answered. "Between what I could read from his mind and Essex's, I put most of this together. The drug they gave me--it was combined with Ecstasy--was supposed to suppress abilities, but I was able to still read minds, to a certain extent--I just couldn't mind control."

Erik nodded thoughtfully. Charles still hadn't answered the burning question that pulsed in Erik's mind ( _what happened what happened what happened_ ) but Erik had another question that he thought was less intrusive. "How does Essex plan to take the job at Northridge away from you, considering you've already been hired?"

Charles pursed his lips thoughtfully. "You know, I've been wondering that myself. It wasn't really clear. They definitely don't plan to kill me--" Erik's blood ran cold at the very suggestion, "--so perhaps Essex thinks he can mentally force the Dean to change his mind. There would be a papertrail, though, considering human resources is involved. So I think..." Charles close his eyes and continued in a smaller voice. "I think they intended to traumatize or scare me to the point where I would walk away from the job on my own." Charles opened his eyes. "Erik," he said gently.

The appliances were creaking, the silverware shivering in its drawer, pots and pans clanging. Erik took a careful deep breath and exhaled slowly, letting all the metal back down to its original place. 

"They didn't succeed, Erik," Charles said, in what he no doubt intended to be a firm voice, but it wavered at the end of Erik's name. "They might have, if you hadn't arrived when you did. I could tell Shaw had something else in mind..." Charles shivered and abruptly changed the subject. "I've been wondering--how did you find me?"

Erik swallowed his guilt. "I called Angel. I met her at the rally Thursday night, and Darwin told me she might be at the same party as you." He stroked Charles' hand. "Then right as I walked inside the house, I felt that--tickle, that feeling of you touching--this." Erik hesitantly reached up and touched the ear cuff wrapped around the upper shell of Charles left ear. "I followed that feeling straight to you. You know, I was afraid you were working, and I wasn't sure if I should interfere, because on set with Logan..." he trailed off as Charles squeezed his hand tightly. 

"Thank you for taking the time to ascertain the situation," Charles choked out, the formal-sounding words contrasting with the raw emotion in his voice. "Thank you for not killing those men. Thank you for getting us out of your apartment this morning before I hurt Shaw or you or anyone else. Thank you for--Jesus, Erik, thank you for everything," and Charles was crying hard by the end of the sentence, leaning in to Erik to clutch him in a fierce embrace. 

Erik ached for Charles' pain, but as always he felt painfully aroused to due Charles' tears. He kept his penis flaccid by carefully concentrating his ability to keep the blood from filling it up, exactly the opposite of what he did to stay hard on set. Charles just looked so fucking beautiful when he cried, and Erik hated what it made him want to do. _Monster,_ his mind supplied. _This is not what Charles needs from you right now_. 

Charles' body language stiffened for a moment, very subtly, and then relaxed again. Erik knew he had felt at least some of what Erik was feeling, and shame shot through him. But Charles didn't say anything and after a few minutes he gradually stopped crying and said, with his head on Erik's shoulder, "Is it weird to order brunch for delivery?"

"I don't care if it is weird, it's genius," Erik said, squeezing Charles.

**

After they'd had a local Jewish deli deliver brunch, and had eaten their fill, Charles said, "I'm ready now, if you want to know what happened."

"Are you sure?" Erik said, looking into Charles' blue eyes. His gaze was met with determination. 

"I know you want to know," Charles said. "You think it every time you look at me."

"But not if you're not ready," Erik insisted. 

Charles smiled softly. "I can't say I'm looking forward to it, but honestly I need to sort through some things about it myself." He stood up and tugged Erik's hand. "We should lie down."

"Oh--ok," Erik said, not sure why. He got up and followed Charles to his bedroom and lay down next to him. Charles touched him temple and Erik gasped as he was suddenly somewhere else, standing on Essex's front porch.

Charles felt his surprise. _Oh, sorry! I thought it would be best to show you, just in case I forgot anything. Actually..._ The scene disappeared, and Erik was back in bed with Charles. 

"I'm sorry, I hadn't thought this through," Charles said, looking down, away from Erik. "It would be easier for me to show you than tell you, but I believe you may see, hear, and feel everything I did--I don't want you to have to experience that."

Erik considered that carefully. Of course his instinct was to tell Charles that he wanted to see and feel everything because Charles had, and that he could handle it, but since he didn't know what exactly he was agreeing to he thought caution was warranted. "Would I know it's a memory? Would I be able to talk to you?"

Charles hesitated. "Yes, to both." _And I could stop anytime you asked._

That sealed it, for Erik. "I want to see, hear, I want it all. I want to know what happened to you."

Charles pressed a kiss to Erik's temple. "Thank you," he whispered, and Erik realized that Charles wanted to share this with him, even though it was painful. Charles touched his temple and the vision resumed, from the point when Charles arrived at the Essex residence until that moment in the pantry when Charles' eyes had met Erik's.

Erik felt sick and trembling when he came back to himself on the bed. He hadn't asked Charles to stop at any point, although he'd almost vomited at the point when Charles had dry-heaved in the vision. 

He looked at Charles and saw the same pale sick feeling Erik had on his face. Charles frowned and stroked his face. "Was it too much?" he said anxiously. "You don't look well."

"You don't either," Erik croaked. He could still taste--what Charles had tasted the night before. He shuddered thinking about that and put it out of his mind. "I think I'm mirroring you. You look like you did when I picked you up Saturday night." Erik suddenly realized. "Wait, this wasn't just me--you went through everything again." Erik sat up. "I should have realized--"

"No, please," Charles said softly, putting a hand on Erik's shoulder. "I needed to. I needed perspective, to understand how to frame this for myself. Saturday night I was definitely--violated, but honestly..." Charles sighed. "I don't know that I have freely consented to any of the sex I've had since I started working in adult films. Present company excepted, of course," he added, with a quick smile that just as quickly left. 

Charles' words troubled Erik. "What are you saying? You aren't saying you blame yourself, I hope? Because--"

"No," Charles interrupted. "But I refuse to give this power over me. I refuse to be sexually bullied into giving up my dreams."

Erik reached for Charles and hugged him, tightly. He wasn't sure of the right thing to say; Erik wasn't a psychologist, but he felt that Charles may have more emotions to deal with than he was currently acknowledging resulting from the events of Saturday evening. Regardless, he was proud of Charles for coming to the conclusion he did. 

And Erik had decided that Shaw and Essex both needed to die. 

"No," said Charles, breaking the embrace. "No, Erik, you must promise me that you won't kill either of them." Charles looked at Erik with fierce eyes. 

Erik felt frustrated and helpless, and his anger was mounting. "Charles, you've seen what they do! They are _systematically_ repressing mutants. They control, or are doing their best to control, our work and living opportunities because they know no one else will hire us. Do you remember the guy who was supposed to be Magianto's sidekick, Alex Havcok? He used to live in my building. Shaw fired him and put him on the street after he failed his STD panel, which he only failed because he uses IV drugs that Shaw got him hooked on!"

The metal in the apartment was shaking again as Erik's rage grew. Charles held his hand, said _Calm your mind_ to him mentally. "I had no idea about Alex--that is tragic, truly. But killing people does not solve anything, Erik. If anything, they should be referred to the proper authorities."

"The police?" Erik snorted. "Mutant-on-mutant crime? You think they'd care? They'd just use it as an excuse to put more limitations on our freedom. How _dangerous_ mutants are. Did you know the bombing at that rally is being called a 'mutant riot' by the media?" 

Charles was silent a moment, as his mind turned over information. "I think that bomb--was Shaw," he said slowly. 

Erik considered. "He _was_ there that night. I saw him, right after, actually." Erik frowned and tried to remember what he'd seen. 

"I got some mental images from Shaw of an explosion; I know it was caused by him, and it was recent," Charles said. "But I didn't realize it might be the rally until you said what you just did. Will you share with me what you saw?"

Erik nodded and then it felt like Charles hit the 'replay' button in his mind. He remembered running towards the aftermath of the explosion and passing Shaw on his way--Shaw was standing perilously close to the trash can that had exploded, and he should have been injured. But he wasn't.

"His mutation is absorbing energy and then re-deploying it as desired," Charles said thoughtfully. "This would probably look very much like a bomb."

"...So, this is your argument for why I should _not_ kill him?" Erik said, showing a few too many teeth. 

"My argument for why you should not kill him--" Charles began--

Erik interrupted, staring straight at the ceiling, "He rapes me every month."

Charles was shocked into silence, his jaw falling open. Erik could hardly believe he'd said that--it wasn't something he thought about around Charles, it was something he had never told anyone, and he felt shame about it now, shame that he knew how wrong it was and that he'd let it continue. But Charles had shown him what he'd experienced at the hands of Shaw and Essex, and he had to understand why they couldn't be allowed to live. 

"That's the first time I've let myself think of it as that," Erik continued, in a deceptively casual voice, because inside he was nothing but turmoil, and Charles had to know that. "I told myself I'd agreed to it, and I had agreed to something, true, but he upped the ante and I didn't have any other realistic option...and he knew I hated it. He got off on me hating it."

"Sebastian Shaw is probably the most unpleasant person I have ever had the misfortune to encounter," Charles said menacingly.

Erik barked out a mirthless laugh that he swallowed quickly, finding it humorous that "unpleasant" was the worst word Charles can think of. 

"He's evil," said Erik bluntly. "And he deserves to die."

"Oh, Erik." Charles laid down next to him and put his head on Erik's shoulder. "I'm so sorry for what he put you through." His next words were so soft that Erik almost missed them. "But I want you to promise me you won't kill him." 

Erik didn't reply, and Charles didn't ask again.

**  
Charles and Erik slept through most of Sunday afternoon. Charles' phone rang at about 4pm and Charles groggily answered it. Erik couldn't hear much of the conversation, because Charles did not contribute much, just noncommittal phrases like, "yes," "I see," and "thank you." He disconnected and curled towards Erik, burrowing his head under Erik's armpit. 

Through a concerted effort, Erik did not ask about the call. He'd almost forgotten about it when, fifteen minutes later, Charles said. "My mother died."

"I'm sorry," Erik said softly. "Is that what the call was about?"

Charles nodded and said, "You don't have to be sorry. We weren't close. In fact, of her net worth of almost one billion dollars, I will be getting about one hundred thousand. And that's probably only because she forgot to change the beneficiary of a life insurance policy."

Though the words were bitter, the tone of Charles’ voice was detachedly calm. "Are you all right?" Erik said cautiously. "I mean, this is your mother you're talking about."

"I don't feel anything," Charles said, emotionlessly. "I think I’ve run out of feelings. Well, I feel like having a drink, but that's typical for me."

Erik didn't say anything to that, and did his best to keep his thoughts off what he thought about alcohol and Charles as well. 

"That's a good chunk of money," Erik said instead. "You could quit porn."

Charles was silent for a moment, then shrugged. "I could quit doing anything."

Erik wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. He pulled Charles into his arms on the bed, both of them lying face to face on their sides. Charles was so unresponsive that Erik asked "Is this okay?" to which Charles mumbled "yes," but he didn't touch Erik in response. He just breathed, and ached.

**

For the next two days, they did not leave Charles’ apartment in North Hollywood. The Tuesday morning that should have been Charles' first day teaching the genetics class at Northridge came and went; Erik had tried his best to get Charles to go, or at least call the college, but Charles just shook his head and burrowed under the covers, despite his claim that he wouldn't let Shaw or Essex bully him. Erik felt helpless and frustrated. 

Charles was a shadow of himself. He didn't smile, he ate mechanically and only because Erik put food directly in front of him. Erik was getting very concerned that he should get some kind of outside assistance because Charles was clearly not doing well and Erik didn't know what to do to help him.

They had delivery again for dinner Tuesday night, pizza this time. As they were finishing dinner, Raven and Azazel appeared in the living room in a puff of red and black smoke. Neither had been back to the apartment since the Saturday night of the party; Erik didn't know where they'd been, and he was sure Charles didn't either, but he hadn't mentioned his sister. Erik jumped at their sudden appearance, a reaction to which Azazel seemed accustomed, but Charles just looked at them. 

"Raven," Charles said. Everyone waited for him to say something else, but he didn't. He flicked his eyes downward and didn't look up again for several minutes, pizza forgotten.

Raven shot Erik a look of alarm at Charles' demeanor. "Charles," she said, coming up to him and kneeling next to him, assuming the blond form he always liked her to be in. "I need to talk to you." 

Charles nodded, still not looking at her. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

Raven looked at Erik as if to imply that he should leave but he played stupid. He would leave if Charles asked him to leave. _Stay,_ Charles whispered in his mind. Erik stubbornly picked up Charles' hand and held it while keeping eye contact with Raven. She looked at Charles again, obviously annoyed about Erik's implied refusal to leave, when she seemed to actually notice how odd his behavior was. "Charles, are you okay?"

"Mother died," he said dully.

Raven looked stunned. "Oh. Well, I guess you are more upset about that--than I thought you would be," she said haltingly. Erik had picked up enough about the Xavier family to know that Raven was not actually a blood relation to Charles or his mother. 

_And, because the man who tried to recruit you into porn sexually assaulted him,_ Erik thought only to wince when Charles gripped his hand so tightly he felt his bones rubbing together. 

_Not yours to share._ It was a rebuke from Charles, still curiously devoid of emotion. 

Raven took a deep breath. "Charles, you have gone out of your way to protect me and keep me safe, all your life. And I love for you that, so, so much. I didn't realize how far you would go to keep your promises to me until that awful man showed me your--movies--at that party." Charles shuddered a little, still looking down, and she paused to take another few slow breaths. She was going to continue but Charles interrupted,

"He didn't hurt you, did he?"

She shook her head. "No. He gave me ecstasy and convinced me to make-out with a girl--nothing worse than a typical college party," She was trying to joke but it fell flat. "Maybe he had other plans, but fortunately you--and Erik and Azazel--got me out of there. Thank you," She added, softer. 

Charles nodded and seemed to relax a bit. 

"But now--" she bit her lip. "Azazel and I have spent the last couple days helping mutants around the country, freeing people who have been unjustly imprisoned, helping mutants who need to get out of their situation. And doing this has brought my life more meaning than any college class I've ever taken."

Charles started to shake his head, slowly, side-to-side. Raven exhaled carefully. "I'm dropping out of school, Charles. You don't need to take care of me anymore; you don't have to do things to make money that I _know_ you don't want to do!" She stood and started pacing. "It makes sense now, you know, the increased drinking, _Erik_ \--" Erik glared at her. 

She knelt down again by Charles, tears in her eyes. "Charles, _you_ are a mutant who needs to get out of your situation. I've been holding you back for too long. I have my own life to live, and I love you so much that I can't even put it into words, but I need to not live with you anymore. _You_ need for me to not live with you anymore, although I’m sure you don’t see that right now.”

Charles was trembling, staring at the floor, almost catatonic. 

Erik was furious, but he kept his power and his voice under control. "Raven, you have _no fucking idea_ how bad your timing is."

She looked at him like she had forgotten he was there. 

"What Charles has done, he has done for you--and now you're going to leave? When he's like this?" Erik stared at her with icy rage. 

Raven choked back a sob. "I can't be what I'm not, anymore. And he can't live the life he's been living either, and if you love him you have to fucking know that." She knelt down to Charles again and wrapped him up in a tight hug which he did not reciprocate. "I love you, Charles. I hope someday you can forgive me." She hugged him for a few more seconds and then walked over to Azazel and they both disappeared. 

"RAVEN!" Charles screamed. He started sobbing. 

Erik wished with all his being that he was someone else, he wished his twisted fucking mind would break, he wished whatever had created the monster inside him would have just finished the job and killed him instead of leaving him a broken shadow of a person. He wished all this because the sight of Charles crying aroused him desperately. 

Charles leaned against him, sobbing. He needed Erik. Erik hugged him back, exerting all his power to pull the blood out of his erect penis. Charles didn't need this. Maybe if he could hide the monster a little bit longer, maybe then he could pretend to be what Charles needed. Because Charles didn't have anyone else.

"Fine then," Charles gasped, through his sobs. "Just do it. Just fuck me."

Erik pulled away from Charles like he'd been burned. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm a _fucking telepath_ , Erik, did you think you could hide something that so dominates your thoughts from me?"

Erik stood. "I should go." But Charles needed him. He felt torn in half with shame and frustration. 

"No." Charles stood, his eyes wild, bright, impossible blue rimmed with red. "You should fuck me. I _need_ you to fuck me. Because this is _life,_ I'm fucking alive and if this is all there is to it I want it."

Erik backed up. Charles was scaring him. "Charles, please, calm down."

"You think you're a monster, Erik? Who is the real monster? I could _make_ you fuck me." Charles stepped towards him and Erik reached inside himself for his certainty of Charles, the tiny place deep inside where he knew this man, even though he hadn't known him that long. He held his ground. 

"But you won't. You won't, Charles. I know you. You are not capable of rape."

Charles stiffened and his face showed his shock to hear what he said couched in that term. Erik reached for him and held him. "I love you, Charles. I may hate myself, but I love you and I am not going to let this ruin us. _Any_ of this." He tipped Charles' chin up to him, let himself see the big beautiful tears falling from Charles' face and not jerk away from the sight in shame. "You are not alone." He kissed the tears. His erection was throbbing, as he no longer had the focus to keep it down using his ability, but it did not rule him. "Charles, you are not alone."

Charles closed his eyes. Tears still ran down his face. "I'm sorry, Erik. Please forgive me."

Erik kissed his cheek. "Always."

And Charles sobbed into Erik's chest, and for once Erik didn't make himself feel guilty for being turned on. He just thought _love you, love you, love you_ to Charles and didn't let his mind dwell on his arousal or how he should feel about it. 

Charles cried for a long time. They moved to the bedroom after a few minutes, Erik on his back with Charles curled up against him. Just before he slipped away to sleep completely, he said, "Charles. Can you affect my dreams?"

Charles sniffled. "Yes. Would you rather not dream tonight?"

"Please," Erik whispered, and he slipped off to dreamless sleep.

**

Erik awoke Wednesday morning to his face being kissed all over by Charles. "You are a wonderful, wonderful man," Charles murmured against his neck, kissing there too. As he kissed his way down to Erik's collarbone, his kisses became less innocent and more charged.

Erik stilled him. "Charles. Are you sure--?" _It was so recent,_ he thought. 

_There is nothing good in my world right now except you,_ Charles responded. _I love you. I want to explore you. I want to forget anything but you and I and this bed exists._

Erik deliberated, but pulled Charles face towards his for a gentle kiss. Charles sucked in his lip and licked his mouth open until Erik’s caution was rapidly being blasted away by the heat of Charles’ lust and days of sexual tension. 

"Let me, please," Charles whispers and pulled Erik's shirt off him, then shimmied him out of his sweatpants and boxers. "God, you are gorgeous," Charles whispered, running his hands across Erik's broad chest, squeezing one nipple on the way down, then following that squeeze with a lick and tiny nibble at Erik's quick inhale of a response. He climbed on top of Erik, straddling his upper thighs just below where the taller man’s cock jutted out, red and turgid. He leaned forward and ran both hands through Erik's hair, dragging his fingers down and through and across Erik's jawline, which was thick with stubble. "It's almost a beard now," he whispered, as Erik hadn't shaved since Saturday.

He put his teeth on Erik's collarbone, testing, and Erik made a small noise of pleasure. Charles smiled against his chest. "You like teeth," he observed, and proceeded to bite his way down Erik's chest to his waistline. Erik was writhing, his painful erection from the evening back in full force. 

"I--I’m not sure," Erik gasped, still desperately trying to hold back if Charles was still confused, but his balls ached from hours of being erect with no release the day before. 

“I want this,” Charles insisted. “Please, I need this. I’ll stop if you tell me to though, but please, not on my account.”

Erik groaned and gave in, pulling Charles’ face to his for a deep, filthy kiss.

Charles grinned triumphantly, and quickly stripped off his own clothes. He grabbed some lube and spread it all over and inside his thighs and then touched Erik's rigid cock with one coy, dancing finger before he relented and wrapped his hand around it completely. He spread his legs enough to capture Erik's cock between his thighs and started moving up and down, with Erik’s penis gliding between his thighs. 

Erik starting bucking upwards, looking for more and better friction, and Charles held himself still on his hands above Erik while he did that, capturing Erik's mouth for a deep kiss, sucking on his tongue and pulling Erik's lower lip into his mouth. 

"I'm gonna--" Erik gasped. 

"Come for me, love," Charles whispered, and bit him on the neck. 

Erik groaned and came spectacularly, with what was a larger-than-usual quantity of semen shooting up between Charles' thighs to paint his ass and back with streaks of white. As Erik panted his pleasure and great _relief_ , Charles giggled. "I think you got some all the way up to my hair," he whispered, diving in to Erik's mouth for another deep kiss. 

"You stay here," Erik murmured, between kisses, "I'm going to get you a towel."

Erik slipped out from under Charles to go to the bathroom to grab a towel. When he got back he found Charles lying on his stomach, patiently waiting for Erik. "Wow, I did get it in your hair," Erik said as he tenderly wiped the mess off his lover. "I'm setting a high bar here, because I'm not normally so--hmm. What's an adjective that means 'having a lot of semen'?" 

Charles chuckled. "That's okay, it's not high on my list of 'important qualities in a man'."

Having cleaned off his back, Erik rolled Charles over on his back for more kisses. "What can I do for you?" He asked, running his hand down Charles side and towards Charles own half-erect penis. 

"Maybe later," Charles says, lazily kissing him. 

They lay that way for a few minutes, as Erik's mind was turning over some ideas. "Charles."

"Mmm?"

"Do you think you could--inside my mind--make my crying--thing--well, go away?"

Charles opened his eyes and looked at Erik thoughtfully. "I don't know. Sexuality is--very complicated. And even if I could, I don't know if I should."

"Will you please try?" Erik was desperate to have some relief from the fetish, and Charles knew that, but he was still hesitant. 

Charles pursed his lips. "I know it may be hard for you to believe, but I have been looking forward to more role-playing with you, looking for more ways to capitalize on this fetish of yours," Charles said to Erik, putting both arms around Erik's neck. "I _like_ knowing that there is a thing I can do that makes you completely undone. I do not think you are a monster, and I thought last night that you were starting to get that."

Erik chuckles weakly. "All I really got last night was a massive case of blue balls. I was hiding some of it from you, but it is really unpleasant for me to deal with much more than it is pleasant. _Please,_ Charles--even if you can only give me a temporary solution--will you try?"

Charles sighed. "I'll look, and see what I can do." He lifted his fingers to Erik's temple. Erik didn't see or feel anything, although Charles’ eyes were closed and his brow furrowed. 

After a few minutes, Charles said, "Ok, I think I found it. I can't remove it completely, but I think I can lessen the effect." He frowned deeper after a moment. "Wait--this can't be right." Charles opened his eyes and looked at Erik. He had a peculiar look on his face. "Someone else has been in here."

"What?" Erik asked, alarmed. "What does that mean?"

"Another--someone has--" Charles abruptly stopped. "Were you attracted to men when you were young?" 

Erik was jarred by the change in direction of the conversation. "Uh, well, no, not really. I told you that I thought I was straight until I started working in porn."

"I remember you saying that," Charles said carefully. His face was flushed and Erik thought he looked upset. "Are you attracted to women?"

Angel's face flashed across Erik's mind and Charles winced. "Why do you need to know?" Erik asked, as a deep discomfort set in to his bones. 

"Erik--there several indications to me that another telepath has been in your mind and has influenced your sexuality."

"You're not talking about the crying thing, are you," Erik whispered. 

"No, Erik--I'm afraid your mind has been manipulated to find men attractive." Charles’ eyes were bright with tears and as he realized that, he choked out a surprised laugh. "Well, now we can test the other thing. How do you feel seeing me like this?"

Erik didn't remember what they were testing. "Sad," he whispered, seeing the agony on Charles’ face, before the tears registered and he felt a twitch in his penis. "Oh. Yes. Tears. Still sexy, but much, much better than before." He shook his head. "Thank you, for that, I'm just stunned about--the other thing."

Charles exhaled heavily. "I'm so sorry, Erik. You have been violated in a terrible way. I can--" he swallowed. "I think I can put it back if you want."

"No," Erik said instantly, and Charles' relief was palpable. "I don't care why or how it happened, but if whoever did this to me hadn't done it, I wouldn't have fallen in love with you."

"Maybe there is someone else you should have fallen for," Charles whispered. 

" _NO,_ Charles, please hear me." Erik rolled Charles onto his back and put his hands on either side of Charles' face, stroking gently. "I know we've only known each other a couple of weeks, but I had nothing to live for before I met you. I mean, I'm not Registered. I have no ID. It's only a matter of time before I get pulled over and incarcerated, and after I break out of jail a couple times, they'll eventually figure out how to imprison me for good." Erik exhaled, thinking about all the things that he usually didn't let himself think about. "The point is, I have had every reason to anticipate a short and miserable life. But _you_ have given me a reason to want to find a way. You challenge me in every way, and frustrate me, and your power takes my breath away. And you are so unbelievably sexy to me that I want to fuck you into this mattress. And I don't _care_ how all of that came about. If the ability to love you was given to me by some other telepath, then I owe that person a big thank you."

Charles was smiling through his tears by the end of Erik's speech. "I love you too," he said, kissing Erik hungrily. 

Erik smiled. "I think I'd like to show you exactly how attracted to you I am," he said, “If that’s alright with you.” 

Charles smiled and nodded eagerly. “There’s only one thing I don’t want to do, but I don’t want to think about it--you understand, though, right?”

Erik knew, because he’d re-lived it through Charles. “Not a problem. And if you never want to again, that’s not a problem either. Are you--can I do that to you?”

Charles responded by kissing Erik hard, which was great, but he would have preferred a clearer answer. Erik began kissing his way down Charles' body. "And I don't feel the least bit guilty about liking these tears." In fact, he tongued the trail of one that slid down Charles cheek and groaned as he did. "Fuck, you are hot," he whispered, kissing his way down the alabaster skin of Charles torso. Charles pulled one of Erik's hands up to his head and flexed his fingers around Erik's hand, communicating what he wanted. 

" _Oh,_ " Erik said, as he realized what Charles was asking. "I see I'm not the only kinky one in this bed." He fisted his fingers in Charles' hair and gently tugged. The moaned response from Charles was immediate and it shot straight to Erik's cock. 

"What else do you like?" Erik whispered. Charles didn't say anything but he projected the image of Erik biting his nipples. 

"Mmm, that sounds delicious," he breathed, keeping one hand fisted and tugging in Charles' hair and bringing his face to Charles right nipple. He just breathed hotly on it until Charles bucked and whined and then he licked it, delicately, then scraped his teeth across it. 

"Erik, please," Charles whimpered. Erik took the tiny nub in his mouth and bit, just a little, and Charles panted and bucked underneath him. 

"Someday, my love, I want to spank you until your ass is as red as your face is right now," Charles seemed to like the sound of that a lot. Erik decided to add a little more dirty talk as he nipped his way down Charles chest towards his ultimate goal. He paused, as if considering. "I'll make it part of opening you for me, and do it while I'm fingering you." He sucked and bit a hickey into the soft skin of Charles' hip. "Or maybe I'll just work a big buttplug in you and then spank you until you are begging me to fuck you."

Charles was rutting up against Erik, _please yes now please I want that_.

_Another time, I promise_ , Erik smiled as he nuzzled Charles' penis. "Right now, I want to suck your cock."

Charles’ body stilled. 

Erik immediately stopped. “Are you okay? We should stop.”

“No, please, I--I don’t want to stop, I just--dammit.” Charles sat up. “Now I’m thinking about it--dammit, I’m sorry, Erik.” He bit his lip. 

“It’s fine,” Erik said soothingly. “You don’t owe me anything. I just want to make you feel good. That includes a wide menu of options, including but not limited to acts of sex. Would you prefer chocolates? A backrub? Simpsons marathon?”

Charles smiled at him. “Erik. You--” he shook his head. “I just love you, that’s all. Come hold me until I forget there’s a problem.”


	12. The Cop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References to past abuse

Erik's cell phone rang very early Thursday morning. He had no reason to answer it--the only person he would have happily woken up for was curled up next to him--except that it crossed his mind that it would have been Charles' second day of teaching at Northridge that day and he thought the call might be in relation to that. He realized as he answered the phone that his brain's logical processes were sleep-addled, because why would Northridge call on Erik's phone?

But by the time Erik's mind reached that conclusion, he had already answered the phone with a grunt that barely qualified as language. It was _early._

"Mr. Lehnsherr? This is officer MacTaggert from the LAPD. You spoke with myself and my partner last Thursday night after the bombing in Venice, do you remember?" The woman's voice was brisk and firm.

"Mmm. Yeah," Erik responded, sitting up a little and rubbing a hand across his face. 

"I'm wondering if you might be willing to speak to us again. We have some questions about a man who was seen there that evening who we think might be responsible for the bombing. Could you come to the station this morning?"

Erik exhales through his nose in a mirthless snort. "No, I don't think so." He made sure the derision he felt was obvious in his tone.

"Mr. Lehnsherr," the woman said, suddenly with steel in her voice, "You are not under investigation for this crime, but I happen to know you did not tell us the full story of what happened that evening."

"Well, dishonesty seems to be going around," Erik said, his voice rising. "What story did you tell the media? Why are you still investigating what was clearly just a _mutant riot_?" Charles was awake now, next to him, looking at Erik with wide eyes. 

"We're not the media, Mr. Lehnsherr, but if you come and talk to us--"

"Fuck off," said Erik tiredly and disconnected the call. He turned on his side, intending to wrap himself around Charles and go back to sleep, but Charles was wide awake. 

"Why did you do that?" Charles was confused and not a little angry. Erik didn't have to explain who called, of course, as Charles knew both sides of the conversation from Erik's mind. "She's clearly investigating Shaw; you saw him there--they need your statement, Erik!"

Erik stared back at Charles in disbelief. "Charles, she's a _cop._ "

"And that makes her inherently bad?"

"Yes!"

"You're as bad as people who hate mutants just because they're mutants," Charles said witheringly. Erik groaned and tried to put his head under the covers, but Charles had a firm grip on them. "Please, Erik, call her back."

"Have you forgotten that I am an unregistered mutant? That's a misdemeanor, by the way."

Charles quietly replied, "Have you forgotten what Shaw did to--us? And all our friends?"

Friends. What friends? The only friend Erik could think of was Darwin. Of course, Darwin's friend Alex had been royally screwed by Shaw, probably literally, and of course there was what Shaw had tried to do to Raven--not to mention Charles and himself. Erik closed his eyes and sighed. Despite that, he had a lot at stake in addition to a hard-earned hatred of Los Angeles police. "I'll think about it," he said to Charles. Charles' naked hip was outside the blankets and Erik reached over to caress it. "You know what would help me think..." he added, trailing off suggestively.

Charles arched an eyebrow at him. "I'll think about it," he said coolly.

Erik rolled his eyes and then rolled out of bed to find some coffee. His thoughts were on his erection and how he was accustomed to having more sex than this, and it would be nice to at least be able to jerk off without a telepath in the house. As he thought that he realized that said telepath probably knew everything he was thinking about this and it made him even crankier. 

All he could find was instant coffee and he grudgingly made a cup with water he heated in the microwave. He made a face as he drank it, thinking longingly of the gourmet coffee and coffeemaker at his apartment in West Hollywood, where he hadn't been for three days. He wondered how long it would take Shaw to realize he wasn't coming back. He wondered how he was going to get his stuff. 

He mulled it over a bit more, egged on by the terrible coffee, and then walked into the bedroom, where Charles was just getting out of the shower. He said casually, "I think I'll head back to my place today."

Charles stopped drying himself off and stared at Erik. "What?"

Erik shrugged. "I miss my stuff."

Charles looked _very_ upset. "But Shaw's there."

"I'm not just going to leave that television or my sofa for him," Erik pointed out, reasonably, or so he felt. 

Then Charles got angry. "Is sex so fucking important to you?"

" _What?_ " Erik said in bewilderment. 

"I turned you down, and now you'd rather go back to live below a rapist?" Charles was pulling on clothing in jerky, hasty movements. 

_Oh god._ Erik replayed what he'd said to Charles and realized how it could have been misconstrued. He walked up to Charles, who was facing away from him and trembling, and kissed him on the side of his head. The smallest chuckle escaped him. "You can't get rid of me that easily, Charles. I want to get some things and come back. I have every intention of living here with you from now on." He felt Charles slowly relax under his hands and he wrapped his arms around the shorter man. 

Charles turned to him and kissed him on the neck and the two men stood there embracing for a few minutes. 

"Maybe you should read my mind a little more often?" Erik suggested hesitantly. 

Charles swallowed a laugh. "Make up your mind," he said, turning his face up for a kiss. 

They shared a lovely sweet kiss which Erik would have liked to have seen progress into something far more energetic, but Charles pulled away with a happy sigh after a moment. "I know you are feeling like you need some space right now, but I would really prefer to come with you, if that's alright," Charles said, looking up at Erik with big blue eyes that Erik could not recall ever having said no to. 

"Does anyone say no to you?" He said with a small affectionate smile. Then he thought about it. "Hey, wait a minute..."

Charles shook his head. "I can be perfectly persuasive without exerting undue influence," he said haughtily, seeming so adorably affronted that Erik could not resist kissing him on the nose. 

Charles suggested borrowing Logan's truck, a idea which Erik could not have been less enthusiastic about. "We can move it all on my car," he said calmly. "Although perhaps you should drive."

Charles frowned. "Your car?" Erik drove a 1997 Toyota Tercel, a small car even by European standards. "The couch, your TV..."

Erik smirked. "Trust me."

**

Charles was pale by the time they pulled up at Erik's building. Erik noticed just before he got out of the car and stopped, instead turning to Charles in concern and taking his hand. "Charles, are you okay?"

Charles let out a shaky breath. "Yes. He's not here, thank god." Charles squeezed Erik's hand and then they both got out of the car to walk up. Erik grabbed several lengths of chain that he kept in his truck for various purposes like moving. 

A homeless man was squatting next to the door to the building. Erik paused as he got closer. "Alex?"

The man raised his head. Hair that had once been blond was so filthy as to now look dark brown. "Hey," he said dully. "Are we fucking?"

Erik and Charles exchanged alarmed glances. _This is Darwin's friend that you were telling me about,_ Charles thought, and Erik sent an affirmation. 

_He looks a lot worse than he did before, and he didn't look great then,_ Erik thought. He remember that Alex had once lived in this building. Maybe he'd gotten confused?

Charles knelt in front of Alex and put a hand on his shoulder. "Alex, my name is Charles. This is Erik, whom I believe you have met before. Is there something we can do for you?"

The young man looked into Charles' eyes for several moments without speaking and then he seemed to become a bit more lucid. "I have some stuff in my apartment," he said, jerking his thumb towards the door next to them. "That bastard won't let me get it." He didn't have to say who he meant.

"Well, fortunately for you, he's not here right now, and we are," said Charles briskly, taking Alex's elbow and tugging him to his feet. "Come on then, let's go inside."

"How's Darwin?" Erik asked, conversationally, as they rode up in the elevator, trying not to breathe through his nose.

Alex grimaced. "It's hard to stay in touch. No cell phone."

Erik walked in front, as Charles helped Alex to guide them to his old apartment. It was three doors down from Erik's on the same floor. Alex stood looking at the door for a moment and he seemed to get frustrated. "I don't have a key," he said.

Oh. "That's my cue," Erik said, unlocking the door with a quick wave. He didn't even need to do that, but, habit. 

Alex went inside and Erik turned to go to his place. Charles hesitated, hovering at the door to Alex's old apartment. _We can't leave him here._

Erik paused at the door of his apartment, perhaps fifty feet from Charles. He didn't know what to say. He sympathized with Alex, but what were they going to do? He supposed he could call Darwin, but Darwin had said he couldn't take Alex in either. A shelter, maybe?

_Home. With us. We have a spare room now, with Raven gone._

"Charles," Erik said, and stopped. He could have given Charles a handful of reasons why they shouldn't take Alex back to North Hollywood with them, and none of them were thoughts he was proud of. 

He sighed. _Can you at least see if you can get him to take a shower while he's in there?_ Erik thought to Charles irritably. 

Charles sent him a bright burst of happiness at his acquiescence to the idea of Alex coming home with them. _Good idea. I'll give him a mental nudge. That's not unethical, is it?_

Erik was much more concerned with being able to breathe in the car on the way back than he was with ethical considerations. And some other minor concerns. _I'm never going to have sex again, am I?_

Charles gave him an amused and knowing smile. "Don't be ridiculous."

Well, deciding to help Alex had certainly helped Charles' mood; Erik hadn't seen him this cheerful since...he had to think about it. Since their date. Since that night when they'd role-played...

Erik shook the memories out of his head. Right then, his priority was to get a sectional sofa, a king-sized bed, and a 60-inch television, a high-end coffee maker and three adults onto a 1995 Toyota Tercel--without destroying the property or getting anyone pulled over. After he surreptitiously sent a text to Darwin about Alex--just to let him know what was going on--Erik pulled out his chains and set to work.

**

Showered and with a few bags of clothing, personal effects, and books under his arms, Alex seemed like an entirely different person. He was still too thin and his skin was not quite the right color, but he smelled and carried himself significantly better. 

Charles was talking with Alex in low tones while Erik wrapped his furniture in chains and took it all downstairs in the elevator. 

It did not all fit on his car. 

Charles wisely did not gloat as Erik realized that transporting all the things he wanted to take in one trip was not going to be possible, even with the use of Erik's ability. He could simply wrap everything in chains and float it behind the car, but it was too large a stack to avoid notice. Erik puzzled over this until Darwin pulled up--in his old Ford pick-up truck. 

Charles greeted him with a grin. "How wonderful! You must be Darwin! I've heard--oh." Charles stopped because Darwin barely acknowledged him as he exited his truck, instead walking up to Alex and standing very close to him. The men exchanged quiet words that Erik did not hear and then embraced for a long while. After a few minutes, Charles cleared his throat.

Darwin seemed to become more aware of his surroundings at the noise Charles made. He pulled out of the embrace and looked at Charles with a shy grin. "Charles, right? I've heard a lot about you too." He came over to shake Charles' hand, and then looked at Erik. "Thanks for the text. I decided I could take an early lunch, but I have to be back at work after."

"Will you help me move?" Erik blurted out. "I can use my power to put everything in your truck if you don't mind driving it to North Hollywood. You'll get back to work on-time, even. I just don't want to have to make two trips."

"Sure, man, load it up," Darwin said. He was smiling at Alex and not looking at Erik. 

Between both vehicles, Erik did manage to get all his stuff secured with the considerable help of his metal-controlling talent. Alex rode with Darwin as they drove back to North Hollywood.

Darwin was obviously reluctant to leave Alex and go back to work after they got to Charles' apartment in North Hollywood and unloaded. It was only because Charles enthusiastically invited him to come back after work and hinted that he could even stay the night if he wanted that Darwin left at all. 

"Why are you doing this?" Alex asked Charles as they stood just outside the front door of the apartment, watching Darwin drive away. "I'm a fuck-up. I spent years in juvy before I started working in porn. All I'm good at is sex and destroying things with plasma bursts. I'm a mutant, by the way." He said the words bitterly. 

"So am I," Charles said with an easy smile. "So is Erik. I'm a telepath, so trust me that I know what you are saying is not true. You are a good person, Alex. You have been taken advantage of by a very bad man, but so have we all. And we are going to do something about it."

A smile slowly found its way onto Alex's face, possibly the first that had been there in a while, but it disappeared quickly as Alex grew pale and swayed. Charles caught his arm. "Alex, what is it?"

"Sorry, I'm just not feeling well," Alex mumbled. "Is it okay if I go lie down?"

"Yes, of course," Charles said, his face tight. He showed Alex into Raven's old bedroom and the young man crawled into the bed and fell immediately asleep. 

Erik felt his anger at Shaw growing by the minute as he remembered how and why Alex was sick. _Death is too good for Shaw,_ he thought darkly. 

Charles sent him a thought back. _Exactly._

**

Charles and Erik spent the rest of the day moving furniture and arguing about where it should go, and somehow ended up with Charles' old queen size bed in the living room, which wasn't that big a room to begin with. (Erik wanted to get rid of it completely, but Charles argued that Raven might come visit and want a place to sleep). At least Charles did agree to get rid of his old couch in favor of Erik's leather sectional, albeit reluctantly. 

Erik noticed around the time that Darwin arrived that he had missed several calls that day--two from Louie (Erik snorted) and two from the same number that Officer MacTaggert had called him from that morning. There were voicemails from both, which he deleted without listening to. He quickly pocketed his phone as Charles approached him thinking, _Do you hear that?_

Although Darwin had gone directly to what they were already thinking of as Alex's room when he'd arrived after work, Erik was starting to hear raised voices. Darwin wanted Alex to do something Alex didn't want to do is all Erik could really get from the argument. After a few minutes a frustrated Darwin came out of Alex's room to the living room where Erik and Charles immediately acted like they hadn't been listening. 

Darwin ran a hand over his head. "I'm really sorry about this, coming to your place and arguing, I mean," he said to Charles. "I'm really grateful that you are welcoming Alex into your home. It means a lot to me, and to him."

"It's my pleasure," Charles said softly, and Erik knew it really was. He hesitated before continuing. "Is there anything I can do?"

Darwin exhaled and Charles said, "Oh, I see." Darwin looked at Charles, puzzled, until his face registered understanding. "Oh. You're a telepath! I didn't know that. I assumed you were some kind of mutant, but this makes a lot of sense."

"Do you want me to talk to him?" Charles asked. "I really should be tested myself."

Erik started to feel annoyed at being left out of the mental conversation. "Tested for what?"

_Alex doesn't know what illness he has,_ Charles explained to Erik telepathically. _Darwin thought that Alex just wasn't telling him, but Alex really doesn't know. All Shaw told him is that he failed his STD panel._

"He feels like he deserves to suffer," Darwin said, so softly it was almost a whisper. "I just want him to get better."

Charles walked to the doorway of Alex's room. "Alex, may I come in?" Erik and Darwin stayed in the living room, but the apartment was small enough that they could easily hear the conversation taking place a few feet away.

"It's your place," Erik heard Alex mutter to Charles. 

"I don't want you to feel that way," Charles said earnestly. "I want you to think of this as your home, too. But I also want you to feel better, and so does Darwin. I need to get tested, myself, because of...because...of something Shaw's business partner did to me. So if you want to go to the clinic tomorrow I would be happy to go with you. Erik needs to get tested too," Charles added, just loud enough for Erik to know he was meant to hear it.

_I do?_ thought Erik. _I haven't had unprotected sex in a long time._

_You do, unless you like using condoms for blowjobs,_ Charles replied, with a tinge of amusement. 

Erik sat up straighter on the couch. "Yes, I _do_ need to get tested!"

Darwin laughed at the look on Erik's face. "I can guess what that was about."

**

It was two days later that they got their test results. Erik was clean. Charles had traces of chlamydia bacteria in his throat, but was otherwise clean. Alex had HIV.

Both Charles and Erik were prescribed a cheap course of antibiotics, because Erik had been kissing Charles and they wanted to be on the safe side. 

The recommended treatment options for Alex were extremely expensive and not guaranteed to work, although some people with HIV had managed to live a very long time without developing AIDS. But those people had also been taking care good of themselves. 

"I wish I could share my mutation with him," Darwin groaned to Erik. It was Saturday, and after the unpleasantness of the morning Erik had decided to go out for a run, and Darwin joined him. Neither Alex nor Charles seemed interested in running with them. "Is there a mutant somewhere that can reverse mutations? That's gotta be a thing, right?"

Erik thought about a world where everyone controlled metal except him. "Yeah, I don't think that's a thing. But at least with your mutation you can have unprotected sex, right?"

Darwin grinned. "I don't kiss and tell."

Erik chuckled and they ran together in silence for a while. "How much longer are you going to work for Shaw?" Erik asked after a few minutes. 

Darwin exhaled, hard. "Don't judge me, man. I may not have all that fancy shit you have, but I have bills, too. Student loans," he supplied when Erik shot him a questioning look. "Hey, should we pick up anything for dinner?" Darwin indicated a shopping center they were about to pass. 

They were a little out of range for telepathy, so Erik went to get his phone out of his pocket and realized he'd left it at the apartment. "Oops, I don't have my phone. Can I borrow yours?"

They stopped for a quick break and Erik called Charles from Darwin's phone. "Hey, should I get something for dinner? We're at the store, about done with our run."

"Oh, yes, that's a good idea," Charles said enthusiastically. "Be sure to get a lot--we're having company for dinner!" Charles disconnected the call. 

Erik did not like the sound of that at all. 

**

They ended up buying a lot of spaghetti and many jars of marinara sauce. Erik could actually cook well enough to make his own marinara, but he was in a hurry to get home and see exactly whom Charles had invited to dinner--none of the possible invitees who came to Erik's mind made him very happy. 

Erik and Darwin got back to the apartment the same time that a dark blue sedan pulled up and an attractive brunette woman stepped out of it. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt and looked vaguely familiar, but Erik couldn't place her until Charles greeted her at the door.

"Officer MacTaggert, I'm so glad to meet you," Charles said with a smile. 

_What is she doing here?_ Erik angrily asked Charles mentally.

"Please, call me Moira," she responded with a smile.

_You left your phone here, and when Moira called it I invited her over to talk. You aren't the only one who potentially has a statement to make against Shaw, you know._

"I take it this is not official business?" Erik said acerbically to Moira, seeing how she was dressed. She hesitated, and her face hardened a bit. 

"I know who you are dealing with," Moira said to Erik quietly. "Those two bastards have managed to get away with everything but murder--possibly even that--without my being able to pin anything on them for a long time, possibly years. I'm on your side," she continued, turning to keep eye contact with Erik as he started to look away, almost pleading. "I want to help you and I think I can. But not if you keep freezing me out."

Erik looked from Moira over to Charles' hopeful expression and sighed. "Okay. I'm sorry. Years of dealing with police who don't give a shit has gotten me a little jaded."

"You and every other mutant," Moira said, then hesitated. "Is it okay for me to call you that?" 

"It's fine," Charles assured her, ushering her inside and giving Erik a _look_ before he could start to respond to her. 

Darwin volunteered to make dinner while they all talked. "What is it that Shaw has done that you can't pin on him?" Erik asked. 

Moira was silent for a moment, obviously debating how to answer that question. "Well, he bombed the mutant rally last week, for one thing. Or he just--exploded, or something. We're not quite sure how his mutation works." 

"Go on," Erik said coolly. They knew that much already. Charles shot Erik a glance but did not interrupt.

Moira pressed her lips together. "There’s more, but I don't want to betray the confidence of a friend."

Darwin, Erik and Alex looked at Charles, who looked distinctly uncomfortable. He sighed. "It's really hard to know what to do in these situations," he complained, to no one in particular.

Moira seemed puzzled by his response for a moment, and then she flushed. "Oh. Right. No secrets from you, I guess."

Charles hesitated. "I don't see as much as you think I see, but may I suggest--calling your friend and asking for permission to tell her, er, their story?"

Moira sighed. "She's going to want to be here."

Charles frowned in puzzlement. "That's not a problem, is it?"

"We'll see," murmured Moira. She excused herself to make a call shortly after that. 

"Charles, who is this friend she's talking about?" Erik whispered when Moira left the room. Darwin and Alex leaned in closer to hear. 

"Oh, well, I don't know," Charles hemmed, trying to put-off answering until Moira got back. It didn't take long.

"Emma's on her way," Moira announced, coming back to the table and snapping her flip phone shut with a click.

**

It was definitely crowded in their little apartment. They only had enough seating for all six people in the living room, and that's with three people sitting on the bed. Emma Frost elected to stand, with her arms crossed, coldly avoiding Erik's gaze. Not that she was particularly warm to anyone else.

"Thank you for coming, Emma," Charles said, trying to act as if she didn't intimidate him. "I believe you know my sister Raven?"

"Yes, she's a passionate one," Emma agreed. "I could always count on her and Azazel to motivate people, help organize, do whatever needs doing."

Charles was clearly surprised to hear that. There was an uncomfortable silence until Emma said bluntly, "Why am I here?"

"Erik wanted to know what Shaw has done that we haven't been able to pin on him," Moira explained. 

Emma turned her icy gaze to Erik for the first time that evening, and he felt the sharp coolness of her telepathy in his mind. _Shall I show you?_

Erik hesitated. "There's someone else who needs to hear it, I think," he said, looking at Charles. 

Charles gasped. "Oh, that's right, you're a telepath too!" He wasn't privy to what Emma said to Erik, but he could tell something had been communicated. 

Emma rolled her eyes. "There's not that much to tell, really. That's the problem." She sighed and turned to Charles. "I was Nathaniel Essex's assistant for almost a year up until about a month ago. I handled the corporate affairs and did the accounting for several of the subsidiary companies. I never liked him or Shaw, and they didn't know I was a telepath for most of the time I worked for Essex."

"How is that possible? I mean, Essex is a telepath himself." Charles was rapt with attention, completely taken by Emma. Erik wondered if he should be jealous. 

"It's a secondary mutation, one for which I am not registered, by the way, so don't go telling any cops--" she winked at Moira "--and I didn't want people to know, so I got really good at making mental shields to hide myself from other telepaths."

"Can you teach--" Charles started excitedly when Emma interrupted him. 

"Can I just say what you need to hear?" she said impatiently. Not waiting for a response, she continued. "A few months ago Essex found out I was a telepath and then he started hitting on me. All the time. And then one day I found out I was pregnant."

Dead silence as everyone thought about this. 

"I hadn't had sex with a man for years, by that point, so I was pretty shocked. I also tested positive for chlamydia, but that's kind of beside the point."

"Not really," Erik said grimly. 

"I would see glimpses, sometimes, in his mind, of him having sex with me," she continued, swallowing almost imperceptibly before she continued. "I dismissed them as fantasies until I saw in his mind a small birthmark I have on my ass--I don't think he could have known about that unless he had seen it with his own eyes. I certainly never think about it; usually I forget it's there."

"He erased your memory," Charles whispered. 

Emma gritted her teeth together and nodded. "That's what I think happened. I quit working for him as soon as I realized I was pregnant and put it all together, and I met Moira around that time." She shot a glance at Moira with a fondness that surprised Erik. "But there was no way to prove what he did."

Charles frowned. "What about a paternity test?"

"I miscarried," Emma said flatly. "There's no baby, nothing to test."

Everyone was silent for a moment, digesting. Erik couldn’t tell from Emma’s reaction if he should be happy or sorry for her. 

"I think that he makes a habit of abusing people and then making them forget it," Moira said in a low voice. "That's why I have been pursuing anyone who has anything to say about either of them that they remember. Unfortunately, from a business perspective, everything they do is on the up-and-up," Moira said. 

Emma and Darwin both nodded in agreement, both having had administrative work experience working with the men in question.

"They just--they earn money legally exploiting mutants, and then for recreation they criminally exploit them," Moira continued.

"Okay," Charles said, exhaling shakily. "I understand, and I know why I have to share this: I--was assaulted by Essex, and I remember all of it."

Everyone except Erik looked at Charles in shock. "You remember?" said Moira in surprise. "How--why, I wonder?"

"I think because of Shaw," Charles said miserably. "Shaw gets off on making people feel shame and disgust, which doesn't happen if they forget it happened. And they both have a slight vendetta against me, for different reasons. I think Shaw convinced Essex not to erase my memory. Or, maybe he just hadn't gotten around to it yet," Charles said thoughtfully. "Erik did rescue me before they had planned for me to leave."

Erik might have blushed a little. He moved closer to Charles and took his hand. Emma's eyebrow spiked, but nobody else made a comment. 

"Sorry to hear of your misfortune," Emma said to Charles, coolly but not rudely. "If there's nothing else you need from me, I think I'll be leaving now."

Charles stood as she turned to go. "No, please, I'd really like to talk to you more," Charles said, but she was already out the door.

_I'll see what I can do,_ Erik said to Charles and went out the door after Emma.

He caught up to her just as she was getting in her car. "Yes?" she said impatiently.

"Emma, I'm sorry, I really am."

Her eyes glared at him like icy daggers. "Sorry? For what?"

"Well, for what happened to you, of course," Erik said, "But--for making you feel bad," he continued, chewing his cheek, feeling completely lost at how to communicate what he wanted to. "The last time we saw each other--I didn’t know how to--I mean, I was unfair, to say what I did--how I did. It's just--you are so beautiful," Erik stuttered. "I'm not--with women, it's been so long, now, and Charles and I..."

Erik trailed off. Emma looked at him and seemed to deflate a bit. "It's a good thing I'm a telepath, because nothing you said really made sense," she said coolly, and then she sighed. "I'm not so good at talking to--people, though, either, so I guess I can understand where you're coming from." She gave Erik a wry smile. "Thanks for trying to make it right, anyway."

"Charles really admires you," Erik said. "He'd be really happy if you could teach him about those mental shields you mentioned. It could come in handy, especially if he runs into Essex again."

Emma smiled tiredly. "Your boyfriend seems very sweet. He's got a nice mind. I'd be happy to help him, just not tonight. Talking about this was--harder than I thought it would be. Right now I need to go home to my cat and a glass of white wine."

Erik smiled. "That's understandable. Thank you for forgiving me."

She rolled her eyes at him as she got in the car and waved as she drove away.

When Erik walked back inside, he was greeted by the stricken looks on everyone’s faces.

He looked to Charles immediately. _What happened? Are you okay?_

Charles smiled wanly. _I showed them what happened at the party. It was easier this time; I just shared some key moments,_ he explained. 

Charles gave Erik a questioning look. _What about Emma? Is she okay?_

_I think she’ll be fine. She’s pretty tough. She’s also willing to help you with those shields. I'll tell you about it later._

Moira was quite angry, standing and pacing. "Who knows how many people he's done this to?" She stopped and turned to Charles. "Would you be willing to testify in court?"

"If it helps, absolutely," Charles said quietly. 

"In that case, I will be in touch again tomorrow, okay?" Moira looked at Charles with compassion. "I won't let them get away with this."

"Thank you, Moira," Charles. 

She thanked them for dinner and left.

**

Later, when they were getting into bed, Charles asked Erik why Emma had been upset with him.

"Ah, well, I sort of--rejected her, at the mutant rally," Erik said uncomfortably.

"Oh." Charles was quiet for a moment. "Well, you certainly are popular with the ladies."

Erik sighed. "Please don't."

"Please don't what? Erik, I don't want to interfere with--"

Erik interrupted him with a deep kiss. _You are the only person I want to be popular with._

Charles kissed him back desperately, even as his mind whispered _I have chlamydia; we shouldn't be kissing..._

Erik pushed Charles onto his back, still kissing him fiercely. _We're both taking antibiotics. We'll be fine._

Despite his mental reservations, Charles was kissing Erik back with an unusual ardor, sucking on his tongue even as he thought, _You should call Angel tomorrow; she might have been abused by Shaw as well._

Erik pulled back. "Quit thinking about women," he growled, biting Charles' neck.

Charles gasped and dug his fingers into Erik's back. "Make me."

Erik's penis, now fully erect, twitched. "That's not my power." He bit his way down Charles' chest, harder than he had ever dared to before. But judging by Charles' gasping and thrashing reaction, it was well-received. 

"Use your power on me," Charles whispered. Erik pulled up to look at his face. Charles' cheeks were flushed and he was breathing hard, lips red from licking, and though his irises were all swallowed by his pupils, the ring of blue shone brightly in contrast to the red of the rest of his face. Erik thought it was possible this was the most debauched he'd ever seen Charles.

"Like this?" Erik twisted tendrils of his metal headboard around Charles' wrists, capturing them. Charles panted and moaned in delight. 

"Shhh," Erik whispered with a grin. "Our roommates will hear what a dirty slut you are."

Charles inhaled deeply and the look he gave Erik was pure lust.

_Fuck me fuck me oh fuck yes fuck me_

_Are you sure?_

Charles arched his back and literally whined in response to the question. Erik took his time, now, that Charles was restrained, kissing and biting every spot of Charles he could reach, testing to see what made Charles make the most delicious sounds. Charles was almost past speech when Erik finally put a lubed-up finger in his ass.

_More!_

Erik chuckled as he pressed the digit inside and added another. "You're a greedy whore, aren't you?" He nuzzled Charles' cock as he fingered him, moving his fingers inside Charles in a come hither motion until he found what he was looking for--Charles’ head went back and his eyes rolled up and his jaw dropped as Erik stroked his prostate. 

"Oh, you like that," he murmured. He added a third finger and sucked on the delicate skin over Charles hipbone as he did so, hard enough to hurt a bit and definitely hard enough to leave a hickey. 

"I think you're ready for my cock," Erik breathed to Charles's cock, like it was a secret. He withdrew his fingers and quickly grabbed a condom and rolled it on his erect member.

_Please please fuck me Erik oh please fuck me love you so much_

"I'm going to fuck you now, love," he said, pressing a few kisses to Charles' chest. "I can't wait to have my cock buried inside you." Kneeling between Charles' legs, he pressed his penis to Charles' pucker, groaning a bit as Charles opened for him and his cock inched its way inside. He pushed Charles' legs up until he was nearly folded double, watching Charles' face for cues of discomfort, but his lover only sent him wordless telepathic pulses that approximated to _more, harder, want, please_. Erik slowly rocked his cock deeper inside, fascinated by Charles' changeable and beautifully contorted face as he did so. Charles' ass gripped him so tightly though that he couldn't maintain his slow and careful pace, and he leaned forward onto his hands as his hips worked with a mind of their own, snapping into Charles repeatedly until his hips were flush with the backs of Charles' thighs. 

Charles could not be quiet now, and Erik couldn't quite remember if there was a reason he should be. His soft whimpers had grown to full-out cries as Erik fucked him mercilessly. Erik angled his hips a bit until--there--Charles bit his lip so hard he nearly drew blood as Erik found his prostate again, this time with his cock. 

"Tell me what you like," Erik grunted, now sweating, unrelenting. "Show me how you like to be fucked." And Erik felt dizzy as the images came at him: Erik choking Charles, Erik spanking Charles, Erik slapping Charles across the face until he cried--

Erik made a noise like a roar as he came, and immediately after he fisted his left hand in Charles' hair while he grasped Charles' penis with his right and stroked the pre-come slicked penis in a tight grip as he continued thrusting his still-mostly-hard cock into Charles, keeping his cock erect by using his ability. Charles came with a scream that made Erik remember why being quiet was important. He huffed out a chuckle as he withdrew the metal from around Charles' wrists and then withdrew his cock from Charles. He tied off the condom and threw it away, then collapsed in a sweaty mess next to Charles.

"Do you think they heard us?" Charles said with a giggle. 

"I think they heard us in Venice," Erik replied, unable to keep from grinning. He turned on his side to face Charles. "You are a dirty boy, you know that?"

"Were you deceived by my innocent face?" Charles drawled, looking at Erik through half-lidded, drowsy eyes. 

"Should we have a safeword?" Erik mused, feeling sleepy. "You seem to like everything, but I might go too far."

_This is my safeword,_ Charles said. _And I am a _very_ dirty boy. I hope you can handle it._

Erik fell asleep with a smile on his face.


	13. Full House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bondage, spanking

Erik woke up with murder on his mind on Monday morning.

He'd had terrible dreams, violent, horrible dreams that featured Shaw and Essex raping himself and Charles with grotesquely huge phalluses. And he woke up angry, and found himself seriously contemplating how he would go about killing both of them if he was going to. 

Charles made a noise next to him, still more than half-asleep. "Erik..."

Erik absentmindedly put a hand out to rub on Charles' back. He had never killed anyone, but he thought that he probably could and not feel bad about it in the case of Shaw and Essex. However, he could not think of a way to do it that he wouldn't be a suspect, and even if Charles forgave him, that meant a life behind bars or on the run--and someday someone would figure out how to lock him up without metal, of that he was certain.

He exhaled hard and was just thinking about getting up to get some coffee when there was a knock at the door. 

He pulled on some sweatpants and blearily went to answer the door. 

When he saw who was standing on the front step, he said "No," and shut the door. He started to go back to bed but Charles was just coming out of the bedroom, frowning. 

"Who was that?" Charles asked sharply, going to the door and opening it. Erik sighed and stalked into the kitchen to make coffee. On the front porch stood Logan and Hank, the PA from the studio they'd last filmed at. Logan was leaning heavily on Hank, who looked frankly miserable.

"You're an asshole, Lehnsherr," Logan grunted as Charles ushered them inside after he shot Erik a dark look and a mental reprimand. Erik sighed and started making a double pot of coffee. 

"Logan, my God, what happened to you," Charles cried as Logan limped inside with Hank's and Charles' help. It seemed that nearly every inch of him was covered with ugly red and purple marks. "I thought you heal quickly?"

Logan winced as he carefully sat down on the bed in the living room. "Well, it starts with the fact that a couple guys I know haven't yet filmed a certain last scene that they were supposed to film to finish this movie I'm in," Logan said conversationally. Erik and Charles exchanged uneasy glances. "So I haven't gotten paid from that project, see, so to make some quick money I agreed to take part in some medical testing that ended up being a little more intense than I had anticipated." 

"Oh my god," Charles exclaimed, moving closer to Logan and putting a hand on his arm. "What did they do to you?"

Erik did not like the way Charles was touching Logan at all, but something else was bothering him about Logan on another level. He seemed to be wearing or carrying a large amount of a rare metal, and while Erik had been aware on some level about the metal since Logan had arrived, it was now at the forefront of his awareness. He reached out to the metal and pushed it experimentally. Logan fell back on the bed, surprised. Erik did his best to hide a malicious grin. Logan glared at him from across the room.

Charles looked back and forth between the two of them. "Erik," he said warningly. 

Erik tightened his lips and went back to making coffee.

"So, yeah, now my bones are coated with adamantium," Logan continued, pulling himself back up to a seated position with some difficulty. "But it's taken me a little longer to recover than usual, and when I couldn't pay rent on the first, my roommate put all my stuff outside my front door." 

"He was parked at the studio, but when I saw the condition he was in, I thought I should bring him here," Hank said, nervously pushing up his glasses. 

"Why?" said Erik bluntly. 

"Ah, well, I've heard that Charles is sort-of running a halfway home for mutants," Hank replied uncertainly.

_"What?"_ said Erik while at the same time Charles said delightedly "Oh!"

Erik poured cups of coffee and brusquely shoved them into Logan's and Hank's hands and retreated back to the kitchen to make tea for Charles, glowering towards the living room the whole time. 

"Uh, thank you?" Hank said with a puzzled look on his face. 

"Logan, please know that you are most welcome to stay here while you recuperate," Charles said warmly to Logan, putting a hand on his shoulder. "And I'm terribly sorry that we haven't completed the film; we--I--had a rather...tragic event happen that made filming that last scene--well, I think we're ready to do it soon," Charles turned his head to smile brightly at Erik, who was feeling such rage that he was barely able to contain himself.

"Aw, Frankie, thank you," Logan sighed, putting a hand on Charles' leg. 

"I'm leaving," Erik snapped. He shoved a cup of tea in Charles hand and went to get dressed, fuming. He pulled some jeans on and was digging for a shirt when Charles came to stand in the doorway, just looking at him sadly. 

As Erik started to brush by him in the doorway of the bedroom, he sighed and stopped and looked down at Charles. "I'm sorry I'm such an asshole," he said quietly, reluctantly making eye contact with the shorter man. He expected anger or sadness, but he only saw understanding.

"Erik, I know this living situation has been hard on you," he said softly. "And I've been a little--needy, and I apologize."

Erik's chest swelled with tenderness for Charles. His neediness was completely understandable, and in all honesty Charles wasn't the one Erik needed to get away from. Still, he felt like a bigger asshole for still feeling like he needed to _get out_ for at least a while. He leaned down and kissed Charles gently. "I'll be back later," he murmured. Charles nodded and gave him a small smile. 

**

Erik went to a junkyard he sometimes frequented in Van Nuys that was owned by a sympathetic mutant. The guy made money by selling salvaged car parts, but he always needed some cars moved and was willing to let Erik throw around some of the real junkers if Erik would help him out sometimes. 

The man was happy to see him today, as Erik hadn't been there in a while and a bunch of cars needed moving. This was what Erik did best; it made him feel alive and powerful and grounded in a way that not much else did. After he had moved the cars the junkyard owner requested, he smashed some of the stripped-completely cars together and even crushed a couple into compact metal boxes about 2 feet on each side, to the delight of the lot owner, who liked to watch when Erik did this. 

After a few hours Erik felt tired from using his talent so much in one day, but calmer than he had in weeks. He still wasn't quite ready to go to back to Charles' apartment (he couldn't quite bring himself to call it home yet) and he debated what to do next. He remembered something Charles said about how he should call Angel the day before but he waffled before making the call. It felt a little childish to call Angel after he'd felt undeniably jealous of Logan than morning, but Charles had suggested it, Erik told himself as he dialed "Flying Hottie" in his phone. 

"Hi," she answered, and then waited. Erik knew she had to know who was calling from her caller ID, but she didn't greet him by name, so he thought she might working near Shaw or Essex.

"Angel, hi." Erik said, and then to test his suspicion, "Can you talk?"

"Well, not really, I'm at work," she said in a clipped voice. 

"Can you meet me? Today, maybe for lunch?"

She was silent a moment. "Why should I do that?" 

Erik exhaled. "Because I prefer to apologize in person."

Another moment of silence. "Well, I'm in Sherman Oaks," she said slowly. "I can take lunch in about a half-hour. Is there somewhere nearby we can meet?"

Van Nuys wasn't far from Sherman Oaks at all. "Sure, no problem." He told her the name of a deli he knew and headed over there to meet her. 

**

"What I don't understand," said Angel after they had found a table together in the deli they met at for lunch, "is why you talked to me on the phone like you were coming to the party for _me_."

Erik shifted uncomfortably on his seat. "I didn't really think it through. I just needed to get to that party as soon as possible."

She eyed him for a moment, as if waiting for him to continue. The she shook her head and spoke again. "Well, I would have understood if you asked me about Charles. I could tell he'd gotten in a little over his head; it's not surprising that--"

"'Gotten in a little over his head'?" Erik hissed in anger. "He was _raped_ at that party, for fuck's sake, Angel."

She gave him a look of such absolute shock that most of Erik's concerns that she was somehow in on it melted away. "Are you fucking serious, Erik?"

He nodded glumly. He felt a little bad about telling Angel because it wasn't his story to tell, but he thought Charles would understand why he did.

"Shaw and Essex rape people on a fairly regular basis, in fact," he said, slowly bringing his eyes up to hers. "But nobody reports them because Essex makes them forget it happened."

She slowly frowned and shook her head. "I don't--I can't believe that."

"Did they tell give to give Charles drugs? Did they give you the pills?" Erik pressed. He wasn't entirely sure of Angel's role in what happened at Essex's party. Charles, he knew, believed that Angel hadn't known what was going on, but Erik wasn't as trusting as Charles. 

Angel's brown skin paled at his questions. "I took them too," she whispered. 

"You should get tested," Erik said bluntly. "I wouldn't be surprised if they took advantage of you, too. And if you are going to keep working for Essex, it might be a good idea if you got on the pill." 

She seemed to be having trouble processing what she was being told, staring with unfocused eyes on a distant point. "I get tested every 27 days," she said distractedly. "And I'm already on the pill. But are you sure?" She looked at Erik again. "I mean, I know that Shaw's a creep, but _fuck_ , there's not a lot of other places that will hire a mutant like me, are there?"

Erik wished in that moment that he was a telepath who could open his mind and convey to Angel everything he knew about what Shaw and Essex were doing to convince her to stop working for them. 

In fact, though, she seemed to be trying to convince herself of the opposite, slowly shaking her head. "Neither of them has made a pass at me, you know," she said to Erik. "Shaw prefers men and Essex--well, I don't know what he likes, but it's not me."

Erik got a text from Charles just then asking for Emma Frost's number. Erik sent it, and then texted, **_having lunch with Angel. back soon_**

_**invite her over tonight please?** _

That sounded like a good idea to Erik, as he could tell Angel was trying to talk herself into being able to keep working for Shaw. He rubbed his hair in frustration, even while asking himself why this was so important to him. _Angel might be a way to get access to Shaw if she keeps working for him,_ Erik's mind whispered to him. It served his own interests for Angel not to leave their employ, but he also worried for her safety. 

"Can you come by my place after work?" Erik asked, realizing that even though he couldn't telepathically impart information, he lived with someone who could. 

She looked at him warily and Erik realized why. "Charles just texted me to invite you," he said awkwardly. 

She was very reluctant, Erik could tell, as she sighed heavily and said, "Okay. I get off work around 6, so it will be a little after that, okay?"

"That's fine," Erik said. "See you tonight." He stood up to leave but Angel just stayed seated, frowning into the distance. Erik left.

**

When Erik got back to the apartment, Emma Frost was there, and she and Charles were silently staring at each other while seated on the couch. Emma looked as cool as ever, but Charles was red-faced and breathing hard. Neither of them seemed to notice when he came in.

"Kinky," he said, looking back and forth between them. 

"Oh! Erik," Charles said, looking away from Emma with a shake of his head and up to Erik. "Emma has been helping me with learning how to shield my mind from other telepaths. Do you know she can also shield _other_ minds from being sensed by telepaths? She's just incredible, Erik!"

Erik might have felt jealous if he thought Charles was the least bit attracted to women. "Incredible," he repeated, shooting a glance at Emma, who was graciously accepting Charles' compliments. 

Erik looked around the living room, surprised to see it so empty of people for what seemed the first time in days. "Where did everyone go?" he asked. 

"Alex is in his room, Darwin is at work, Hank went home, and Logan is resting...in our bedroom," Charles finished slowly, giving Erik a pleading look. 

Erik closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe normally, even though the thought of Logan in his bed was enough to make his hackles rise. "Okay. Okay."

Emma looked back and forth between Charles and Erik. "Well, I think that's my cue to leave for a bit," she said, standing. 

Charles stood with her. "Will you come back tonight, as we discussed?" 

She kissed Charles on the cheek and Erik forced himself not to growl. "Of course, sugar. See you then."

When she left, Charles looked at Erik with a sweet smile. "I missed you," he said.

Erik scoffed. "I was only gone a few hours."

"Still..." Charles smiled at him and pulled him into a deep kiss. 

Erik returned it eagerly and then pulled back roughly. "Dammit, there's a wounded mutant in our bed." 

Charles just smiled at him again. "Let's go for a walk," he suggested. 

Erik shrugged his assent. Fall was one of the few times of year when a midday walk in the San Fernando Valley was actually pleasant. "You're awfully smiley," he pointed out. "How did the shielding lessons with Emma go?"

"Oh, very well," Charles said enthusiastically. "The way she uses her ability--it's incredible, really. She is so versatile and in absolute control of it at all times. No accidental mind-reading like I sometimes do--she is very deliberate about reading minds. Of course, I do seem to be a little better at mind control, but she can make people look the other way, not notice things, that kind of thing."

"Did you learn how to shield your thoughts from other telepaths?" Erik asked. This was very important information to him.

"Yes, I think so, although I'm sure I could use some practice and since I don't know many telepaths, that will be hard to come by," Charles said, leading Erik to turning a corner. "But enough about me. How was lunch with Angel?"

"Are we going somewhere in particular?" Erik asked, suddenly realizing that Charles was walking with a purpose through residential streets that Erik had not been on before.

"Yes," said Charles, with a mischievous smile. "Now, don't avoid the question: what did Angel have to say?"

"She said she would come tonight," Erik said. "She doesn't want to quit working for Shaw just yet, but I gave her some reasons to think about it." He squeezed Charles hand. "It might help if you share some of your--impressions with her. If you are okay with that."

"Yes, I think I am," Charles said. A few beats went by before Charles said, almost shyly, "Are you attracted to her?"

Erik felt very uncomfortable with the question but being anything other than honest didn't occur to him. "Yes. I'm sorry."

Charles chuckled lightly. "You don't have to be sorry. I'm attracted to other people too, you know."

Erik's hand tightened on Charles' "Anyone specific?"

Charles looked at Erik thoughtfully. "Do you really want to know?"

Erik hesitated, and Charles spoke again before he could answer. "We've never really talked about if we are seeing each other exclusively, you know."

Erik's mind shouted _of course we are_ but he clamped down on it. "I guess we haven't. Charles--" Erik turned to face Charles and took both of his hands. "I don't want to be with anyone else; only you. And I don't want you to be with anyone else, in any way. I want both of us to quit porn. I think we've both been acting as if we have, but since we're saying things out loud, that's what I want. And I really hope it's what you want." 

Charles looked up at Erik, a smile growing across his face. "It is, Erik, and I am very glad to hear you say that!" Erik kissed deeply, thrusting his tongue into Charles' mouth and not caring who saw. After a moment Charles started to smile and pulled away. Erik knew they couldn't do what he suddenly wanted to right there on the street, but he still groaned a little because he figured by now it was expected of him. 

"Almost there," Charles said, his blue eyes shining brightly with maybe a hint of additional moisture that sang to Erik. 

"Almost where?" He said, laughing, letting himself be tugged. Charles stopped. 

"Here." Charles turned to look at the house they had stopped in front of. It was nondescript; larger than most on the street, but not in particularly good repair and the landscaping was wildly overgrown. There was a ‘For Sale’ sign in the yard.

Erik looked at Charles in puzzlement. "What is this?"

Charles was practically vibrating with excitement. "It's a house, Erik. It's got six bedrooms and four bathrooms and it's situated on nearly a half-acre of land." 

"Charles--are you looking to _buy a house?_ ” Erik said incredulously. He didn't know anyone in his peer group who owned their own home; it certainly wasn't something porn stars did. 

Charles chewed his lip. "Well, in a way, I already have."

Erik snapped his head from looking at the house to gape at Charles. "What?"

"I put in an offer, and it got accepted," Charles said with a nervous smile. "I still have to line up the financing, but the amount I got from my mother's life insurance policy makes a sizable down payment. I asked for 60-day escrow to give us a little extra time to do that.”

"Well...I don't know anything about home purchasing, but I am pretty sure that you have to have a job to get approved for financing," Erik said slowly. 

Charles made an impatient noise. "I'll work that out. Now, don't you want to see inside?"

Erik chuckled in amused resignation. "Yes, dear. So do you have a key?"

"Errm...not yet. You can do your trick, right?" The home was clearly vacant, so Erik shrugged and used his power to unlock the door. Charles eagerly went inside. 

The house was quite large, Erik had to admit. And it looked better on the inside than it did from the outside. Still-- 

"It needs some work," Erik said thoughtfully. There were some damaged walls, dangling fixtures and evidence of some leaks on the ceiling. Overall, though, he had to admit the place had tremendous potential--if someone wanted to live with a dozen other people. Which Charles apparently did.

The best thing about the house to Erik was the look it brought to Charles' face, making it shining and radiant. "This is my dream, Erik," he said, and there definitely were unshed tears glistening in his eyes. "I want to be able to provide a home for our friends who need it, a place where mutants can live in safety, and where they can exercise their abilities without fear of reprisal, or discrimination--"

He was interrupted because Erik could not stand the thought of not kissing him for another moment. Charles eagerly kissed him back, and laughed with delight as Erik tongued the tear that had fallen from Charles' eye and rutted up against him while doing so.

"It looks like my mind-meddling didn't quite stick," Charles murmured, as Erik ground himself against Charles' leg. "You still seem quite taken by my tears."

"Yes," Erik agreed, wanting more, more tears, more touching, more--"I want to fuck you," he growled. Charles's joy and beauty and _tears_ were overwhelming him and he wanted to be inside Charles as soon as possible. The logistical problem with that presented by their current location did not impede his desire. 

"Uh--" Charles looked around. "I'm not exactly opposed, but--"

"I'll work that out," Erik said, earning a laugh from Charles as he used Charles' earlier words. Erik reached out with his power and found a steel bed frame in one of the nearby bedrooms.

"Get undressed," he told Charles as he beckoned the steel to him.

Charles looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Is that an order?"

Erik took a chance. "Is that an order, _Sir_."

Charles slowly licked his lips as his pupils dilated. "Is that an order, sir?"

"Yes. And if you're not quick enough about it, I may be forced to spank you," Erik added, noticing that Charles didn't seem that motivated to move quickly. 

Charles undressed even more slowly, watching Erik seductively. Erik smirked as the steel he'd appropriated from the other room floated into the living room where they were. 

Charles eyed the metal in surprise and not a little suspiciously, but Erik felt a burst of combined arousal and admiration from his lover at the display of Erik's ability. "Put your arms up," he ordered and Charles did so quickly. Erik shaped the steel into flat bands that he wrapped around Charles' torso and upper thighs. It took him a few moments to make sure that the bands were all positioned so they would provide reasonably comfortable support while still giving Erik access to all the parts of Charles he wanted to be able to play with. 

Charles waited, breathing shallowly, pupils wide and penis erect and straining as Erik finished whatever he was doing--Charles did not peek in his mind to preserve the surprise for himself. He shivered in anticipation as Erik ordered him to put his hands above his head and wrapped them in metal. He sent pulses of desire to Erik because there was a thread of hesitancy in Erik's sense of purpose and Charles wanted to encourage him that he was definitely on the right track.

When Erik judged that Charles was suitably wrapped, he grinned widely. "Ready?"

Charles nodded, trepadacious yet incredibly aroused. Erik moved his arm theatrically and Charles' body was lifted into the air. He'd been expecting that but he still puffed out air in surprise at the sensation. He was hovering with his feet about six inches off the ground. Erik looked at him with satisfaction and came forward to kiss him. "Finally, I can kiss you without craning my neck," he teased, pulling away.

"Oh, I didn't know that was such a problem," Charles said tartly. Erik chuckled and put his hands on Charles torso, walking around him to inspect the bands carefully and stroking Charles as he did so. 

"Comfortable?" He asked Charles when he had reached the front of him again, with one arched eyebrow and the hint of a smirk on his lips. 

"Yes, but please, don't keep me waiting much longer," Charles almost whined, wriggling a bit. 

"Waiting?" Said Erik. "What are you waiting for? Maybe this?" Charles found himself floating on his back abruptly and the bands around his thighs were pulling his legs open and up. 

"Oh, god," Charles gasped as Erik grinned even bigger. 

"Oh, this is fun," Erik purred, walking between Charles's legs and stroking his thighs. He hesitated as something occurred to him.

_I'd like to suck your dick without a condom,_ he thought to Charles, cursing himself for not having had this conversation earlier. 

_Yes yes yes yes_ , Charles thought back at him. 

Erik still hesitated. Charles was clearly extremely aroused; what if he was not making the same decision he would make if he wasn't turned on?

"I, Charles Xavier, am in my right mind, and I want you to suck my naked cock," Charles snapped suddenly. 

"Oh, really?" Erik said. "I think _someone's_ forgotten his place. _I'm_ giving the orders right now. Just for that--" Erik mentally reached out and flipped Charles over, relishing the other man's gasp of surprise. "Just for that, the spanking I promised you."

Charles was now floating face-down, legs spread and facing down as if he went bent over an imaginary piece of furniture. Erik tilted him a little further so that Charless ass was the tip of an upside-down V. Erik stood between Charles' legs, savoring Charles' anticipatory trembling, before he delivered a medium-hard smack to Charles' left buttock with his right hand. 

Charles whined and sent him a mental pulse of combined pain and pleasure. "Count," Erik said gruffly to Charles. Charles gasped, "One."

Erik smacked Charles again, this time with his left hand on Charles' right buttock, about the same intensity. "Two," Charles whimpered. That was followed by two more smacks in quick succession, as Charles cried out, "Three--Four!" 

Erik pulled a lube packet out of his pocket and put some on his fingers. He slapped Charles ass again and then put a fingertip on Charles' pink anus. He slapped again but didn't move the finger until Charles mentally pleaded with him to enter him. "Five," Charles choked.

Erik slowly pushed his finger inside up to the first knuckle, and then slapped Charles' ass again. Charles was whimpering and didn't say anything. "Charles?" said Erik sharply.

"Oh, six, sorry, so fucking hot..." Charles moaned. 

Erik smiled. "Oh, love, we've just started." He slowly pushed the finger inside Charles deeper in, and slapped his ass again with his free left hand, a little less intensely this time. Charles was moaning. "Six, shit, no, seven."

Erik fucked Charles' ass with one finger then added a second one, then delivered a hard smack to Charles' buttock again. "Fuck, Erik," Charles whined, but Erik could feel his mental waves of arousal stronger than ever. 

"What number?" Erik said calmly. Charles whined and wriggled, trying to push back against Erik's fingers. Erik began to pull his fingers out. "Eight!" Charles yelped. 

Erik rewarded him by pushing his fingers back in and slapping Charles' ass again. "Nine," Charles said, in an almost normal voice. _Well we can't have that,_ Erik thought, and started curving his fingers inside Charles til he found the spot he was looking for and Charles started keening. Erik delivered an almost-but-not-quite gentle slap to Charles' ass as he continued to massage his prostate from inside him.

He slowed his movements a bit and sent Charles a question mark mentally, much as he had on their first date. "Ten," Charles cried out, drawing the syllable out. Erik added a third finger and worked them inside Charles until he was quite sure Charles was ready for his cock. Then he pulled his fingers out completely, grabbed a condom out of his pants' pocket, lowered his pants just enough to reach his cock and rolled it on, and then just waited a moment. He could feel Charles' confusion and arousal pulsing at him and he waited until Charles seemed about to speak and then started slapping Charles' ass again, rhythmically, with slowly increasing intensity. 

"Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen, Fifteen--" Erik heard what he was waiting for, a catch in Charles voice. 

_You know what I'm waiting for,_ Erik thought at Charles, hoping he wasn't going too far, but feeling a little blinded by his own intense arousal. He slapped Charles ass one more time, a good hard one, and then flipped Charles around onto his back, just as he sobbed, "Sixteen."

Erik saw the tears just starting to pour down Charles' face and red crowded the edges of his vision as he struggled to control himself enough to enter Charles slowly. He closed his eyes hard as he entered and gritted his teeth to try and go as slow as possible until he had sunk about halfway in, when he opened his eyes again. He stared at the wetness on Charles' cheeks and could not hold back any longer, desperately thrusting his cock into Charles with an erratic rhythm. He grabbed Charles' hips and fucked him hard, feeling an incoherent mix of pain and pleasure from Charles' mind. He came hard, with a loud groan, reaching around to squeeze Charles' delectable (and no doubt quite red) ass as he did so. 

He released Charles' hands from their restraint because he could feel Charles wanting that as he collapsed for a moment onto his lover's stomach, breathing heavily. He only took a moment to catch his breath before his started licking and sucking Charles' cock, for the first time ever without a condom. _You taste so good, love your cock,_ he sent to Charles, wrapping his hand around the base as he tongued the frenulum, sweeping his tongue across and around the head. Charles ran his fingers through Erik's hair, with his back arching to the extent the steel bands wrapped around him allowed, as his head fell back at the pleasure of the sensation--he hadn't received oral sex without a barrier in more time than he could remember. 

Once Charles' cock was liberally coated in saliva, Erik levitated him higher, much to Charles' obvious surprise: he gasped and the hand in Erik's hair grabbed tight. Erik kept his hand on Charles' cock, stroking smoothly, but nuzzled his face down into the crook of Charles' leg and his groin, kissing and licking there and doing the same to Charles' balls. He licked down Charles perineum until he felt Charles' mental pulse of shock at what Erik wanted to do next. Erik hesitated, and sent, _Can I?_

In response he got a tentative _...yes?_

Erik struggled with himself for a moment about whether or not a tentative yes was good enough, trying to estimate the potential risks involved. Trying to think that clearly though was taxing his own post-coital frame of mind too much and ultimately he just thought, _fuck it,_ and licked along Charles opening, while still stroking his cock. He was toying with the idea of tonguing him deeper when Charles came, spurting semen onto his belly and chest. 

Erik was in a mood to cuddle and take a nap, but he realized they had a more pressing problem. "Umm...clean-up?" he said incoherently to Charles. 

"I think there's a roll of paper towels in the kitchen," Charles said to him, and Erik darted in to grab them. He came back to Charles and cleaned them both up the best he could before gently putting Charles upright and lowering him to the ground and then carefully unwrapping the steel bands. Charles leaned heavily against him as the bands came off him.

Erik helped Charles get dressed, as the younger man had a pretty bad case of Bambi legs. Once he was properly dressed again (Erik had never gotten undressed), Erik embraced him and kissed his hair. "That was all okay?" he asked the top of Charles' head. 

Charles gave him a big smile and kissed him soundly. "That was incredible. _You_ , my friend, are an extremely perceptive and responsive lover."

"Well, I _do_ have sex for a living--or at least I did," Erik said, returning Charles' affectionate smile. "But I suspect it helps that my boyfriend's a telepath."

Charles’ smile became almost shy. "Is that what I am?"

Erik shook his head in exasperation. "Didn't we have this talk earlier?"

"Well, it's just--I've never really had a boyfriend," Charles said, suddenly seeming much, much younger than he had at any point that Erik had known him. Erik's jaw dropped. 

"But you--I mean, you've been gay your whole life, right?" Erik said, puzzled. 

"Well, ever since I started noticing such things, yes," Charles said, sucking his lower lip into his mouth. "But I was always too busy with school, and then I was too busy working, and Raven needed me--"

"Raven needed you to be single?" Erik said, with mild sarcasm. 

A flash of hurt crossed Charles' face. "Too soon, Erik."

Erik immediately regretted his thoughtless comment and pulled Charles in to hug him. "You know," he whispered after a moment, "You're my first boyfriend too."

Charles pulled back to look at Erik's face and the corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement. "Look at the pair of us. Gay porn stars who have never had boyfriends."

"Before now," Erik said softly, leaning in to claim yet another kiss from his boyfriend.

"Before now," Charles agreed, his blue eyes shining, smiling so wide it hurt. 

Even though it was closing in on 6pm, Charles insisted on showing Erik the backyard. The yard was very large, Erik noticed, with room for either expanding the original house or adding additional structures and still having plenty of yard left over. 

"That," Charles said, pointing to the far corner of the yard. 'That' was a small structure, far enough away from the house that Erik wasn't certain that it was the same piece of property. The door was locked but Erik opened it with a wave and they went inside to find a one-bedroom guest house. 

"This is for us," Charles said, and he could not have been smiling bigger. Erik looked around at the space--a small bedroom, small but open kitchen, small living room. 

"It's--it's perfect," he said, and he felt tears come to his own eyes, a rare occurrence for him. 

"Jesus, Charles," he choked, turning abruptly to catch the shorter man in a bear hug. "Will you marry me?"

Charles hugged him back tightly. "I thought you would like it," he said, tears in his own eyes, again. Erik kissed the tears on his cheeks as both men laughed and cried simultaneously.

**

Erik could not imagine feeling happier as they walked back to Charles' apartment. Logan was sitting on the front porch when they arrived. He sniffed the air as they approached and gave them a knowing look. "Well, someone had a good afternoon! Please tell me you finished the Superhero film?"

Erik laughed and clapped Logan on the shoulder as they squeezed by him to go inside. "Not yet, but soon," he promised. 

"Apparently it was a _really_ good afternoon," Logan muttered behind them as they went inside. 

Erik and Charles had just finished showering and changing when everyone else started arriving; Moira and Emma together, Darwin arriving from work, and last of all Angel, looking almost scared to be there. She seemed to feel better when Charles greeted her warmly and then asked if he could take her aside to speak with her. 

Everyone (Alex, Darwin, Logan, Moira, and Emma) gathered in the living room and Erik made sure everyone had a beverage by the time Charles and Angel emerged from their bedroom. Angel looked pale so Erik assumed that Charles had shown her what happened to him at the party, but Charles himself seemed relatively unaffected, and he sent Erik a wave of reassurance when he felt Erik's concern. 

After the pizza that Darwin ordered arrived, Moira began their unofficial meeting. "I have been arguing with the DA about this all weekend, but she tells me there is not adequate evidence to prosecute Shaw or Essex," Moira said, with barely contained frustration. "Telepathic impressions are not admissible in court, as you know, and since Essex has wiped everyone else's memory..." she trailed off, looking down. “The DA also pointed out that Charles is both a porn actor and an academic in a competitive position with Essex--in addition to him being a telepath, this means they don’t feel he is a reliable source,” Moira finished miserably. "I don't suppose there were any witnesses?"

Even though the incident had occurred less than two weeks before, Charles felt significantly more comfortable about talking about it than he had before. "Only Shaw."

Moira drummed her fingers on the table. "Do you think you get either of them to admit it?"

Silence fell over the living room. "Do you mean--over the phone?" Charles said hesitantly. 

"Um, well, most people won't talk freely over a phone wire they think might be tapped," Moira said carefully. "What tends to work best is a in-person conversation, in a place where the confessing party feels like they are in control of the situation--"

"No," said Erik, as he realized what Moira was proposing. His cheeks flushed red as every head in the room swivelled around to see him. Erik forced himself to relax. "I'm sorry. Please continue."

Moira did, after a slight hesitation. "My thought was that we send Charles to Essex wearing a wire."

Erik brain still screamed _NO,_ but he managed not to shout it out this time. 

"Won't he be expecting that?" Alex said bluntly. 

Moira and Emma exchanged glances. "Emma knows Essex probably the best of any of us, and she and I have talked about this, and we don't think so," Moira said slowly.

"Nathaniel tends to think all problems can be solved by telepathy," Emma explained. "I think he's going to expect Charles to engage him mentally, and the idea of a wire won't occur to him."

"And what's to keep Charles from getting hurt?" Erik said loudly. He intended it almost rhetorically, but realized it was a valid question after he said it. 

"Charles has a very powerful mind," Emma said quietly, "as I discovered today. He learned in a few hours what it took me years to perfect."

"Oh, no, I'm not--" Charles started, but Erik cut him off mentally. _Your modesty is getting in the way, Charles._ Charles shut up and sat pressed with his mouth together, his eyes wide. 

Emma continued. "Nathaniel--Essex--knows you, Charles, from Pierce. He's extremely threatened by you. You both work in the same field and you are a more powerful telepath than you. He's going to do whatever he can to take you down at this point."

"He's also attracted to me," Charles murmured, almost too quietly to be audible. He looked up at Emma. "And you, too. He hates competition but he's drawn to it as well. He almost fetishizes telepaths."

Emma frowned and slowly nodded. "Yes. Of course; that makes a lot of sense. You saw that in his mind?"

Charles shrugged. "I saw that he was both attracted to and hated me, and the story you told about him not being interested until he realized you were a telepath--stuck with me."

"Well, he has probably realized by now that he should have wiped your memory, despite what Shaw wanted," Moira said. "We're thinking if you are in his presence again, he might try to do just that."

Charles swallowed visibly. "I don't know that I'm strong enough to keep him from doing that."

"You're not," Emma said bluntly. "You will probably lose the memory of being raped. But if he admits to it and you are wearing a wire, we can still prosecute."

"Especially if he tests positive for Chlamydia," Moira added. 

Charles considered carefully. "So if I am going to do this--do I just make an appointment with him?"

"We don't want him _that_ well-prepared," Moira said. "It's best if you just show up at his house at some point when we know he's home."

"What if he rapes Charles again, or decides he's finally ready to graduate to murder?" Erik asked. The question hung in the air, and Moira looked decidedly uncomfortable. 

"Unfortunately, I haven't had a lot of luck convincing any of my colleagues that this is worth pursuing," she said calmly, with a trace of bitterness. "But it would help ensure Charles' safety if Emma and myself and another couple people were nearby in case he needs a quick extraction."

"I'll do it," said Logan, Alex, Darwin, and Erik simultaneously. 

Charles face went wide with surprise, but Moira took it in stride. "But most importantly, we'll need someone inside who can get Charles out after he's gotten a confession from Essex but before anything bad can happen to him." She turned to look at Angel. "I think that's you?"

All eyes turned to Angel, who sighed unhappily. "Fine. Yes. I'll be unemployed again by next week, but ok."

"Thank you, Angel," Charles said quietly. "Thank all of you. But Logan, are you up to this? You are still healing. And Darwin, are you willing to risk your job for this? And Erik--he knows I care about you and if he senses you nearby, he may threaten you to get leverage against me."

"Well, that leaves me," Alex said. "I'm perfect for this job," he said, no small amount of bitterness in his voice. Darwin squeezed Alex’s hand. 

"What if he senses _anyone_ nearby?" Charles said, frowning. Then he realized. "Emma. That's why you'll be there."

She nodded. "I can shield a handful of minds from his detection. Four, maybe five, tops. But that should be enough for this."

"Shaw is gonna be at Essex's place this Wednesday, all day and late into the evening," Angel said. "I know, because I'm working there too. I'm not sure if you want to try and get them both together, or not," she added, "But I thought that might be helpful either way."

"We _do_ want to get them both together," Erik said. 

"It would make Nathaniel more likely to talk, if there's someone else to talk to," Moira said thoughtfully. 

"I'll probably be back to 100% by Wednesday," Logan grunted. 

"Well." Charles looked around. "It sounds like we have a plan." He paused a moment before saying, clearly, "I want to be very clear though that I will only participate if Erik does not come with us." He looked Erik in the eye defiantly. 

Erik glared at his boyfriend. “There’s no way I’m _not_ going if you are.”

Both men stared at each other, very much in love, and very much at an impasse.


	14. Emma

"It's been quiet for at least fifteen minutes," Alex said, shifting restlessly. "Maybe they've come to some sort of agreement?"

Alex, Darwin, Logan, Emma, and Angel were outside of Charles' small North Hollywood apartment. The men who had been staying at the apartment were trying to wait out the spectacular argument that Erik and Charles were having, and Angel just seemed to be there because she was drawn to train wrecks. Emma's reasons for remaining were a mystery to the other mutants, particularly as Moira had left immediately after the fight began. 

"Maybe Charles has finally come to his senses and knocked Lehnsherr out," Logan growled. The other mutants looked at each other hesitantly. None of them really knew Charles that well--Logan actually knew him the best of the group--but doing that didn't seem like Charles.

Not a minute later, Erik came angrily storming out of the house with a duffel bag under one arm. Everyone looked at each other in panic, except Emma, who walked towards him with purpose. 

"Erik," she said, stopping a few feet away from him.

His head snapped in her direction and his eyes took in the small group of people behind her as well despite the gathering dusk.

"Not now, Emma," he said brusquely, tossing his bag into his car. She froze him with her mind. 

_I'm not as nice as your boyfriend,_ she said to him mentally as he stood still, staring at her. She felt the rage rearing up in his head and waited until it peaked before she continued. _I can tell you don't have a destination in mind right now. Come to my place. I just want to talk._

Suspicion was of course immediately present in Erik's mind, along with curiosity. Emma elaborated mentally. _I think I have a solution for your current dilemma, but I believe Charles would take a dim view of it. So I'd rather talk to just you._

He was wavering. Emma felt an articulated question from him. _Why don't you just make me, with your Jedi mind trick? Why do you need me to agree?_

Emma rolled her eyes. "Sugar, the world is not as black and white as you see it. I wouldn't do that. But I will cook you a nice dinner and give you a comfortable place to stay tonight--no obligation," she added quickly, her cheeks coloring a bit. 

Finally, it was curiosity that convinced him. He certainly wasn't afraid of Emma, nor was he particularly tempted by her charms. He thought it might bother Charles if he stayed at her house, but probably not, and given that he and Charles were not exactly on speaking terms at the moment he couldn't bring himself to be too concerned about what Charles thought or didn't.

He sent a mental acquiescence to Emma and she released his body to his own control as she pushed the directions to her place into his mind. 

"What the fuck is going on?" Logan asked, approaching Erik and Emma. 

Emma turned to him with a brilliant smile. "Please let Charles know that Erik will be staying with me tonight," she said.

"Uh, ok," Logan said, frowning. He looked at the apartment thoughtfully and suddenly Erik felt a stab of horrific jealousy, realizing that Charles would be sleeping alone in the same house as Logan.

"Don't even think about it," Erik snapped at Logan, on the verge of taking a step closer to the muscled man. 

Logan gave Erik a look of complete exasperation. "Fuck, Max, I thought we were making progress. I'm not gonna fuck your boy no matter what you and Frosty here get up to tonight." That he thought Erik was being a hypocrite was clear on his face, but Erik just glared at him and got in his car to drive to Emma's.

**

Emma's apartment was exactly what Erik would have expected. It was a one-bedroom apartment in a newer apartment building near Culver City, and the decor was bright, with lots of white and splashes of cream and pale blue. It was extremely tidy and a little bit cold.

Erik felt somewhat dirty in comparison as he put his duffel bag down next to the cream-colored futon in the living room. He hadn't even showered since he and Charles had--

"You can shower if you want to," Emma called from the kitchen. 

Telepaths. Erik snorted, but thought that he really would like a shower. He opened his mouth to ask where the bathroom was, or about towels, but the information was already in his mind. Emma's mind felt different from Charles, cooler and more precise. In contrast, Charles' mind in his felt like warm air, floaty and smooth.

He felt Emma withdraw and it suddenly occurred to him to wonder if that thought offended Emma. Erik decided then that he couldn't let himself worry so much about offending the telepaths in his life with stray thoughts. Surely they had seen worse in other people's minds, probably all the time. 

He enjoyed the shower, as he always enjoyed showering. He employed his favorite coping mechanism and visualized the fight with Charles being rolled off his shoulders by the warm water. Erik realized as the unpleasantness of it all drained off him that more than anything the argument had been about how much they cared about each other: he didn't want to see Charles get hurt by Essex again, and Charles didn't want Erik to risk his own safety to help Charles. 

When Erik got out of the shower he yelped because he was not expecting to see the curious green eyes of a long-haired and fluffy white cat looking up at him. He heard Emma's tinkling laughter from the other room. "I see you've met Fluffernutter," she called from the other room and Erik remembered then that she'd said something about a cat before. He shooed the cat out of the bathroom so he could dry off and get dressed and emerged a few minutes later.

"You feel much better," Emma observed, glancing up at him briefly with a quick smile. "I didn't want to bug you in the shower to ask you about it, but I hope you are not a vegetarian? I have lasagna heating in the oven." She was sitting on one of two tall bar stools at the counter that over looked her kitchen, sipping white wine. 

"No, I'm definitely a meat-eater," Erik confirmed, feeling quite hungry at the smell of the cooking meal. 

"Would you like some wine?" Emma asked. 

Erik shook his head. "I'm not much of a drinker." He sat down on Emma's cream-colored futon and the cat Fluffernutter promptly jumped in his lap. 

Emma chuckled. "He doesn't usually like men," she commented. 

"Well, maybe he can tell I'm gay," Erik joked, scritching Fluffernutter under the chin.

"Are you?" Emma asked. 

She said it casually, but given his recent interactions with Emma and what Charles had recently told him about another telepath meddling with his sexual orientation in his mind, Erik felt that it was a more loaded question than it appeared to be.

"Why am I here, Emma?" he asked quietly, lifting his eyes off the cat to meet hers. 

Emma looked away and had another sip of her wine. "Do you remember the first time we met?" She asked after a moment, gazing at something he wasn't seeing, some memory in her mind.

Erik frowned, trying to remember. "It was with Raven at a mutant pride event, right? Last year in Huntington Beach?"

Emma puffed air out her mouth in an imitation of amusement. "No, Erik. We met before that. We met on the set--at one of the first adult movies you ever filmed."

Erik frowned, thinking back. "I'm pretty sure I would have remembered that."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Emma said, matter-of-factly, before continuing. "I guess that you don't remember meeting Nathaniel Essex either."

Erik's head snapped up. "No--wait, what are you saying? Did Essex do something to me that I can't remember?"

"This is what I mean," Emma muttered, presumably to herself. "He’s got brains, too." Somewhat louder, she continued, "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. As I recall, you weren't very excited about the thought of having sex with a man the day I was on set."

Erik looked down at the cat he was still petting, feeling his cheeks start to burn. He could only nod. He didn't remember the exact incident, but he remembered a time when the thought of having sex with a man was something he was not sure he could do. And then one day he could, and he wasn't sure why or how that changed.

Emma continued after a moment. "You asked me out, you know."

Erik's head snapped up. _"What?"_

"We talked for a while before the shoot. You confided in me how you were finding it difficult to have sex with men, and you expressed--you thought that I was--" she hesitated. "Well, you asked me out. Anyway. Then Nathaniel pulled you aside and had some words with you. And after that, you didn't find it difficult to have sex with men anymore. And you seemed to forget that you and I had talked at all."

Erik's mind was reeling. He should have realized that Essex was the telepath whose interference Charles had noticed in his brain, but it was still hard to hear. What else might he not be remembering? 

And what of Emma? Erik looked at her and realized she had had more wine than he'd realized. Her cheeks were flushed and she was unsteady as she slid off the bar stool and walked towards the oven because the timer had started beeping. Her skirt had hitched up as she slid off the stool and Erik could not tear his eyes away from the flesh exposed as she walked towards the stove and away from him. 

She snapped her eyes to meet his for a moment before smoothing her skirt down and blushing even more. Erik looked back at the cat quickly. Well. Now she knew he wasn't gay. 

Emma pulled the lasagna out of the oven and put it on the kitchen table. Erik gently ejected the cat from his lap and walked into the kitchen, where Emma was putting the hot Pyrex dish full of food on the table in the small dining nook.

"I don't know what to say," he said helplessly. He felt like Emma resented him for something that he had no knowledge of or control over. 

"Oh, sugar, I know," she said to him with a sudden fake brilliant smile. "And honestly, that's not even what I wanted to talk to you about tonight. I just wanted--I don't know what I wanted." She busied herself setting the table while Erik just watched her. She sat down at the table and indicated Erik should sit opposite her. He did so, feeling a bit like he was walking on eggshells. He reflected that he often felt like this when he was talking to women--wary, confused. Especially attractive women.

Emma had served both of them and poured herself another glass of wine before she spoke again, and she seemed to be in business mode. "So. I want to make a deal with you. I know--we all know--that Charles doesn't want you there on Wednesday night. And I can tell from your mind that you have no intention of letting him go without you. But, I’m sure you know he will sense your presence if you are there."

Erik didn't respond, stabbing into his lasagna forcefully. She had a point, but he had begun to seriously contemplate going early and killing both men before Charles had a chance to even arrive. Although probably Charles would never forgive him for that.

"Exactly," Emma said quietly. "I want to propose another solution. Not death, but ruination."

Erik had a large bite of lasagna. It was really good. "I'm listening," Erik said.

"I can shield your mind from Charles' awareness at Essex's house," she said. "And I can make Shaw into a blithering idiot with my mind, permanently. Essex, unfortunately, is too strong for me to do that, but...exactly where does Charles stand on the morality of doing that himself?" 

The idea had appeal. "I don't know," Erik said slowly. "He might, if he believed it would save innocent people from harm." He frowned at Emma. "But I thought the whole point of this was so your cop friend could get evidence to convict these losers and get them in prison?"

Emma nodded, taking a sip of wine. "Yes, that's the plan. If it works. But if it doesn't--well, regardless, I would feel much safer if they went into prisons with their minds erased, wouldn't you?"

Erik nodded, thinking hard. He could live with that. "Yeah. Maybe--maybe Charles will go for that."

"I would also like to convince them to sign Shaw Holdings over to me," Emma said. "I practically ran the corporation for several years while they mostly fucked around with drugs and sex."

Erik wasn't sure how comfortable he was with giving Emma that kind of power. Surely she was better than Shaw and Essex, but would it just be passing the reins to another tyrant?

"Jesus, Erik," she snapped. "No, I'm _not_ the same as them. Of course I would change things. No more drugs being pushed on actors. No more porn even, perhaps; I could make the company a regular film and tv production studio. Definitely no more reduced-rent-for-sex situations. That's just bad business."

"Okay," Erik said, trying to think this through. "That all sounds--great, honestly. You could still provide jobs for mutants, and without being so exploitative. I'm sure you will make some money--" Emma inclined her head in agreement. "But...where's the deal part? Of everything you are saying, what requires my help?"

"Well." Emma finished her--was it third?--glass of wine. "Two things. I need a little help influencing Essex to get him to sign the documents I need him to, and I was thinking that the drug they gave Charles might do nicely in that regard."

"Um, ok, but I don't have any of that," Erik said. 

"But you know who does."

Erik thought about it for a moment. Angel. Flying Hottie. "Yeah, maybe."

"All I need for him to sign the proper documentation so that I have control of the company and its holdings is a little drug and a little muscle. The latter is in case he gets--handsy. He does have a thing about telepaths."

"So you want me to--?"

"Oh, no." She smiled at him. "I can't really trust your temper, dear. I'll make arrangements with Logan for that. But you have a little more pull with Angel than I do."

Erik thought about asking Angel for _another_ favor, and about being rejected as muscle in favor of fucking _Logan_ and slouched sullenly. "It would be easier to kill them both."

"Erik," said Emma gently. "Wouldn't it be better for them to be drooling, penniless, idiots in prison than for you to go to prison, and for Charles to never forgive you?"

Erik slouched further and grabbed the bottle of wine, drinking straight out of it. There wasn't more than half a glass left in it, anyway.

Emma didn't say anything, delicately eating her lasagna. She gazed at Erik with glazed eyes and he realized she was really quite drunk. She smiled and lifted her empty glass to him as he had this thought, and then frowned at her glass for being empty. Erik chuckled despite himself. 

"Two things," he said, the smile slowly fading from his face.

"Hmm?" She raised her eyebrows as she took another dainty bite of lasagna. Erik had long since finished his meal.

"You said you wanted two things from me. Getting the drug is one, being your ‘muscle’ is clearly _not_ the second."

Her cheeks started to redden and she avoided eye contact with Erik for a moment. "I wish I was drunker," she muttered and took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I want to have your child."

Erik dropped the bottle of wine. "What--what did you say?"

Emma's eyes were a determined icy blaze, although her cheeks were pink from more than the alcohol. "I didn't want to get pregnant, Erik. But when I did, I realized--I want this. Not from _him_. But from someone with appropriate--someone with the right genes."

Erik was stunned, his jaw slightly open. The first thought in head head was _No fucking way,_ but he bit his tongue. The bottle had not broken when it dropped, and neither of them made a move to retrieve it. 

"We would have been great together, you know," she said, and looked down. "I mean, I know now that's not going to happen. It's one of the drawbacks of telepathy--knowing exactly how people feel about you."

Erik opened his mouth to say--what? His mind seem to have ground to a halt. "I don't think I can do--what you're asking," he said slowly. 

Emma nodded, seeming to expect that response. "Why not?"

"I--uh--well, I don't know if I want a child, and Charles--" he hesitated. He and Charles had never discussed this, but he couldn't imagine Charles _not_ wanting children. He was born to be a parent. 

"Visitation is no problem," she said immediately. "And--joint custody is negotiable. I'll move closer--hell, I'll move next door." She was leaning forward, imploringly, and Erik felt uncomfortable with seeing the normally cool and collected Emma acting so...desperate.

She leaned back abruptly and swallowed heavily. She stood and started clearing the table, not speaking. The more Erik thought about it, the more he thought Charles would probably be delighted--and that terrified Erik. "I--I'll have to think about it," he said reluctantly. "And I need to talk to Charles. I'm sorry, Emma, but that's not the kind of thing I can decide by Wednesday."

She was facing away from him at the sink and she paused as he said that. "Well," she said softly. "That's--more than I was expecting, actually."

"So was this all a big tease?" Erik said. "You were going to dangle a solution in front of me, with no intention of following through?" Although he said the words lightly, the thought that they could be true stoked the fire of his anger, deep inside.

"You're one to talk," Emma half laughed and half-choked, bracing both her hands on the sink and putting her head down. 

"Hey, I--" Erik was torn between wanting to comfort her and defend himself against her her implied accusation. He rose to his feet and took a few steps to stand behind her uncertainly. 

She whirled around, apparently startled at his movement and Erik suddenly realized what an attractive woman she was. Unrealistically, perfectly beautiful, actually, with naturally blond hair, pale blue eyes, and dark pink lips, even with the tear slipping down her cheek--

A tear, on her cheek. Erik stared and felt his body moving before he could think as he pulled Emma into a rough kiss. She stiffened in shock as Erik thrust his tongue into her mouth before he thought _What am I doing?_ and pulled away. 

He backed away from her as if she had burned him, his eyes wide, not stopping until the backs of his legs hit the kitchen table. "Did you--was that--"

Emma shook her head, roughly brushing away the tear on her cheek. "No. No, I didn't, Erik, I wouldn't. I may be a lot of things but I wouldn't--that was you. I didn't know about--" she hesitated. _The tears thing._ Clearly she had seen in his mind what lit the fire in him and he wanted to shrivel up with shame for his thoughts and his behavior.

He ran his hand through his hair, needing to escape. "I've got to go, Emma."

She nodded, looking down. She looked so forlorn--Erik wished he could give her what she wanted, for her sake, but he knew where his heart lived, and it wasn't here. 

"Will you still get the drugs from Angel tomorrow, or try?" She said softly. "I will--I'll do everything I said I would. I'm not--going to hold out on you, or anything, just--please, consider what I asked you?"

Erik nodded. He picked up his duffel bag and headed towards the door, thinking about where he could go. His steps slowed as he realized he didn't have an apartment anymore, and everyone else he knew well enough to ask about crashing with them already lived with Charles. He couldn't go to Charles’ apartment because Charles would see in his mind everything he had discussed with Emma. Not that Erik planned on keeping anything from Charles--but he was hoping to tell him _after_ everything went down Wednesday. It was easier to get forgiveness than permission, after all. 

Erik stopped at Emma's front door without opening it. He realized there was only one thing that he didn't want Charles to know, but it wasn't something Charles would leave alone: He didn't want Charles to know Emma had offered to shield him from Charles' awareness when Charles confronted Shaw and Essex wearing a wire. So he couldn't go home tonight, or they would be back to square one as far as their argument was concerned.

Erik leaned his head against Emma's door. He didn't even have a way to pay for a motel; he operated on a cash-only basis, and he didn't have much cash with him--he didn't have much cash left at all, he realized uncomfortably, since he hadn't been working. of course he could open any lock, but often that meant dealing with cops...

"I don't have anywhere to go," he said. He felt hollow. It was not a pleasant feeling.

Emma didn't say anything, but he heard her moving behind him and when he finally pulled his forehead off her door a few minutes later he saw that the futon had been opened and there was a pillow and some blankets folded there. Emma was nowhere in sight, but Fluffernutter was already settled on the futon and gave Erik a look that said, _What's taking you so long, human?_

Erik put down his duffel bag and lay down on the futon with a heavy sigh. At least there was a cat. 

**

Erik actually fell asleep quickly, and he woke correspondingly early as well--about 6am, according to his phone. He texted Angel immediately.

_**I need to see you** _

A response came pretty quickly. _**No.**_

_**It's important. For Charles. Meet you for coffee?** _

_**Hmm. Charles says hi btw** _

Erik stiffened. So Angel had spent the night? Probably in his bed with Charles, unless she had slept with Logan in the living room...Erik felt jealousy rising and cursed himself for being a hypocrite even as he felt that, even knowing that Charles was not attracted to women. He stared at his phone for a minute before he texted back, with a lump in his throat, _**Tell him I miss him. And tell him you have to meet me for coffee**_.

Erik waited several minutes for the answer before he got a text with an address and the time 7AM. 

And after another minute, _**He misses you too.**_


	15. Essex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for attempted rape

Some days everything goes just the way you want it to. 

Erik was not having one of those days, he reflected, sitting at a coffeeshop in Hollywood opposite a very annoyed Angel. 

Angel repeated herself slowly, as if Erik was mentally incapacitated. "Erik. I. Don't. Have. The. Drugs. Why would I? They took what I had leftover from me that night. Anyway, Jesus, that--that--MDMA cocktail is--it’s bad, Erik. It’s no good for mutants. I could barely get off the ground!"

"Yeah, exactly," Erik said, exasperated, rubbing a hand down his face. He was loathe to go into all the details of why he wanted it because he thought Angel might be seeing Charles that day, and knew the telepath would skim it off her thoughts probably without even meaning to. "Well, Is there any way I could get some today?"

"It's not like they leave it lying around," she snapped. "I have no idea where they keep it and frankly I don't want to know." Angel glared at him over crossed arms. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Erik? Charles is, just, like, the most wonderful person ever and you just took off last night, didn't call--"

"I suppose you comforted him," Erik said bitingly.

Her eyes widened. "Oh, shit, are you seriously _jealous_? Seriously? After you went off with Emma, all that shit you pulled with--" Angel cut herself off, shaking her head slowly and standing up. "Un-fucking-believable, Erik. Charles could do a lot better than you."

In that moment, Erik agreed. He had nothing to say to defend himself, so he just stared her down until she grabbed her coat and left. 

**

Erik arrived at Emma's apartment around 8AM. Her apartment wasn’t his ideal destination, but it was an unseasonably warm fall day with the infamous Santa Ana winds blowing so hot that even at 8AM it was already over ninety degrees. This meant Erik hanging out in his car all day was not an appealing option, although he reconsidered that idea when he realized that Emma was in the shower as he arrived. Instead, he opened the front door with his power and slipped inside. Fluffernutter seemed happy to see him, anyway.

He raided Emma's fridge for some food and was eating cold lasagna when she came out of the bathroom in a robe that was shorter than Erik was comfortable with. He deliberately kept his eyes averted. 

"No luck with the drugs," he said, between bites of lasagna. 

She sighed and started to make some coffee. "Shit. Well, I guess I'll just see if I can get Shaw to sign; I can handle his mind." Emma didn't say much else, but Erik could feel the anxiety shooting off her like jagged icicles. 

"You're projecting," he said, around a mouthful of pasta.

"Am I?" She seemed genuinely surprised. "That's not good; usually I have better control than that." She seemed to concentrate and Erik felt the anxiety-icicles fade away. "Is that better?"

He nodded. "So...it looks like I'll need to stay another night." Erik looked at Emma to see what her response would be, to see if she wanted him gone, but if anything she seemed - pleased? Maybe not. She was definitely not projecting anything telepathically. Erik wasn't sure if he wanted her to be annoyed or pleased, anyway; he didn't want to impose but he didn't want more opportunities for slip-ups like the previous night. 

Emma glanced at him and he quickly changed his train of thought, saying the first thing that came into his mind. "So, what do you have planned today? Do you...work?"

She laughed wryly. "No, not anymore. Not since I quit working for Essex. I usually don't have much trouble finding work--my registered mutation doesn’t really put employers off too badly--but I've been working pretty much nonstop since I turned sixteen, so..." She shrugged. "I'm hoping to be running my own business soon, anyway." She added, significantly, with a quick glance at Erik as she sat down with her cup of coffee and a small plate, showing a little too much thigh for Erik's comfort as she did so. 

Erik shifted uncomfortably. Emma blithely continued. "Anyway, to answer your question, I'm going to go to see Shaw today. I don't anticipate any trouble," she said in response to his frown. 

"You're going to get Logan first, though, just in case?" Erik asked, feeling concerned for her safety despite himself.

She shook her head, taking a bite of toast. "I can handle Shaw." She looked up at Erik, seeing the doubt clearly on his face. "Erik," she said, softer, "He's weak-minded, and I'm not his type. I have manipulated him before and I assure you, it's no problem."

"Hmm." Erik thought about offering to go along but he was pretty sure he would not be able to refrain from hurting Shaw badly if he saw him again. "I would feel better if you brought Logan with you."

Emma's eyes flashed as she snapped her head up at Erik. " _You_ don't get a say in this, Erik!" She stood up and placed her dishes in the sink so roughly that Erik thought one or both of them might have broken and stalked into her bedroom.

Erik was baffled. Clearly something he said had made her mad, but he couldn't understand what. He reflected once again that did not understand women. 

**

"Hey, Emma," Darwin said with surprise as Emma walked into the distribution office where he worked. "This is a surprise! Something I can do for you?" Not a flicker of concern crossed his features. 

Emma smiled at Darwin. She was hoping to catch Shaw at the distribution subsidiary that day, even though it was really a stab in the dark because she didn't know his schedule at all. She tried to reach out to Darwin mentally to see if she could explain enough of her reason for being there to get his assistance with helping her find Shaw, when she realized that it was hard to get a read on Darwin; she could barely touch his mind at all. 

"I would like to see Sebastian Shaw," Emma said carefully. She hadn’t really planned for the eventuality that she couldn’t communicate with Darwin telepathically, and she didn’t know how close Shaw might be, so she kept her voice as neutral as possible. "Can you tell him I'm here?"

"Sure, no problem," Darwin said easily, to Emma's surprise. She hadn't really expected him to be there. And - how was Darwin being so casual about this? 

"Oh, great." Emma reached into her bag and to reassure herself for the fourth time that day that she had the documents she needed Shaw to sign. 

"His office is the third door on the left, go right on in," Darwin said, his eyes going back to his work, his demeanor completely relaxed.

Emma walked down the hall and felt Shaw's mind before she was in sight of him. Perfect. She carefully crafted the impression for him that Darwin was walking into his office with paperwork for him to sign.

"Hey boss, got a sec?" she said, trying to match Darwin's speech patterns. 

"Yes, sure," he said, barely taking his eyes off his computer, where he had porn playing. Emma carefully controlled her instinctive disgusted reaction, realizing that watching porn could actually be work-related here. 

He signed what she put in front of him, barely looking at it, even though it was dozens of signatures. Anytime Emma’s own name appeared on the documents Emma made sure that Shaw wasn’t interested in reading those sections. She felt almost giddy when he finished signing; she'd had no idea it would be this easy. 

"Cool, thanks," she said, putting the papers in her bag and leaving his office. She was almost back up at the reception desk where Darwin worked when she heard a voice behind her, past Shaw's office.

"Emma." 

Emma knew that voice, and it made her feel sick to her stomach. She started to walk faster but felt herself slowing as he took control of her mind and turned her around to face him. Nathaniel Essex.

"What are you doing here, you naughty girl?" he murmured, walking close to her. Emma squeezed her eyes shut and tried to fight his grip on her mind but he was stronger than her; he always had been. 

Emma knew her priority: not letting Essex know about the papers in her bag. She put everything she had into shielding that information. She needn't have worried, though; despite his question, Essex was not that interested in why she was there as much as he was with what he wanted to do to her now that she was here. Even as part of her panicked at what was about to happen, a part of her mind held him in disdain for being a slave to his sex drive. What a short-sighted prick.

"Have you missed my cock, Emma?" The other telepath breathed, and if Emma's gorge would have risen if her body hadn't been under his control. He reached to her and cupped her breast and then pinched her nipple roughly through her clothes. He smirked as he brought the same hand up to clap her on the face, not gently. "Nice that I won't have to worry so much about not leaving marks this time. Follow me."

Helpless, Emma followed him down the hall. She tried to reach out mentally for Darwin but whatever had been keeping her from reaching his brain earlier was still there. 

**

Darwin was acutely aware that Emma had been in Shaw's office for almost twenty minutes. He had guessed that she was trying to get him to sign over Shaw Holdings to her before the shit went down tomorrow. It was something that had crossed his own mind, but he didn't want the responsibility. Emma having it suited him fine. She’d seemed a bit bitchy at the mutant pride event they’d met at, but certainly competent. And after he’d heard what Essex had done to her he didn’t begrudge her if she ended up benefitting from this situation. 

However...Shaw always signed quickly, they must be done by now. Darwin knew Emma was a telepath and could take care of herself, but still...Darwin took a quick down the hall. Shaw's door was open and Sebastian said, "Forget one?" as Darwin walked by his office.

"Nope, just taking a break," Darwin answered. He frowned when he couldn’t see any sign of Emma. He went all the way to the back door, where the cigarette smokers took breaks, and although he didn't see Emma his blood ran cold as he saw a familiar car parked there. Essex's car. He didn't often come by the distribution office, but it was known to happen, and he usually used the back door so Darwin wouldn’t have seen him. Darwin had gleaned enough about Essex's proclivities from the meetings at Charles' apartment that he would not have let Emma out of his sight if he'd known Essex had been here. He swore under his breath.

His heart pounding, Darwin went back through the office carefully, calling on his ability to improve his hearing and sense of smell. It was harder to do without an immediate threat, but when his heartbeat was elevated his body seemed to invoke a fight-or-flight response that made directed evolutionary changes easier. 

There, in the rarely used women's bathroom. Darwin heard muttering and heavy breathing and smelled arousal and fear. He could guess which scent was from who. He took no more than a second to put his telepathic shields in place in case Essex tried to take control of him-- another function of his mutation, he'd recently discovered, since he had started essentially living with a telepath--and went inside.

Emma was on the floor, on her back, white skirt rucked up to her waist. Essex was on top of her, his hand tangled in her hair, his face at her neck. Darwin used his power to cover his arm with black scales as hard as stone and cracked Essex over the back of the head, careful not to strike Emma. The man fell on her heavily, unconscious.

Emmas gasped and just breathed for a second before she pushed Essex off her. 

"Are you okay?" Darwin asked, offering her his hand. She looked at him for a moment without saying anything, wide-eyed and and trying to gather her wits. After a moment she grasped his hand and he helped her up. 

"I didn't know he was here, I swear, or I would have warned you," he said. He was looking at her anxiously, chewing on his lip. 

Emma nodded like she understood, then turned to the sink and scooped some water into her mouth, spitting it out. 

Darwin viewed her behavior with alarm. "Did he...?"

"He just--kissed me," Emma said, her voice strained. "I couldn’t stand--I just needed to do that." She turned to Darwin. "Thank you. I--" she swallowed. "Did you even know why I was here?"

"I figured you were getting Shaw to sign everything over to you before the shit goes down tomorrow," he said calmly. "Makes a lot of sense, especially since Essex signed everything over to _him_ when he started that new teaching job."

Emma's jaw dropped. "What?"

"Yeah--I thought maybe you knew that, when I saw you here today," Darwin said calmly, with a trace of his customary grin. "Essex was worried that his connection to porn would be found out so he signed everything over to Shaw. It was intended to be a temporary measure, I'm sure. So your timing couldn't have been better."

Emma looked at Essex, still knocked out cold on the floor. "Well, it could have been a little better." She kneeled over him and reached into his mind. With him unconscious, finding and removing the memory of her being there was easy to do. He would never know what he had tried to do to her.

She stood up shakily after a moment, as her vision went dark around the edges for a moment. Darwin reached out a hand to help steady her. "I really should eat more than toast before attempted rape," she said with a shadow of a laugh.

Darwin puffed air out his nostrils and shook his head. "Wow, you have a dark sense of humor."

**

Erik was bored and frustrated at Emma's house. She had a television, computer, books, but he was wound up tight and needed to DO something. After a few hours, he couldn't stand it anymore and called Charles. 

"Erik," the familiar, baritone, slightly accented voice hit Erik like a ton of bricks and Erik closed his eyes with how much the simple sound of that both warmed him and hurt at the same time. 

"...Erik?"

"I'm here," he said quickly. "I--your voice. I was just--appreciating the sound."

Erik heard Charles smile as he huffed air out softly. "It's good to hear your voice, too."

"Charles, I--" he wanted to tell Charles that he wasn't going to come to confront Shaw and Essex the next night, but he fully planned to, and he didn't want to lie to his lover. "I hope we can get through this," he finally said. 

"As long as you don't kill anyone, I don’t see any reason why we can't," Charles said. The words were not emotionally charged; he simply said them as if they were facts. 

"I'm not going to kill anyone," Erik said, and he believed it. He knew he was capable of it; he'd come to realize that sometime over the past forty-eight hours. But if Emma could succeed in her plan...which reminded of him of why he needed to talk to Charles.

"Charles, hypothetically, could you scramble someone's brain so they didn't know who they were? Halve their IQ, that kind of thing?"

Charles exhaled for a long time. "I've never done that. If you are asking if I have the capability, then yes, honestly I believe I do. Would I do it?...I don't know." The last three words were whispered and Erik sensed his advantage.

"Essex is a rapist," Erik reminded Charles, not for the first time. "There are countless other people he could still hurt."

Charles sighed again. "I could just make him impotent. Although, he'd probably still rape, just not with his penis. Sexuality is complicated, and I can't seem to get some things to stick."

Erik knew _that_ well. "I wouldn't kill a blithering idiot," Erik said, hinting. "There would be no need. And if anyone deserves it..."

"Deserves to have his mind taken away?" Charles said sharply. 

"It might be kinder," said Erik, trying to be persuasive. "Who wants to go to prison with all his faculties intact?"

"It's not my goal to be kind," Charles said, louder, and Erik wisely decided not to speak for a while. It seemed that Charles might come to the conclusion on his own. In fact, neither of them spoke for a while, just listening to each other breathe. It was odd conversing with Charles without his telepathy being a factor. Right now, it was probably better that Charles couldn't read his mind, Erik thought, and felt such a stab of horrendous guilt that he almost missed when Charles next spoke.

"Are you coming home tonight?" Charles asked, and the raw emotion, the want was plain in his voice. 

It killed Erik to give the answer he did. "Not tonight," he said. "But tomorrow night, and for the rest of our lives."

"Well," said Charles with forced lightness, "I would appreciate if you used protection with Emma; as you know we have just recovered from Chlamydia--"

"Not funny, Charles," Erik snapped, more harshly than he intended. "We had this conversation. I am not going to sleep with Emma."

Charles continued in a small voice, "I just want you to know that I wouldn't--leave you, for that. We could get past that. I understand if you--need to--"

"Charles," Erik said, his voice cracking. "Please, stop talking." Everything thing in Erik's mind was screaming at him to tell Charles about the kiss but an equally loud part was telling him no, not now, maybe not ever. 

"We kissed," Erik blurted out. Well, so much for that battle of wills. "Charles, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, she was--upset, about something, and she started crying..."

Charles inhaled and then was quiet for a moment while Erik cursed himself for being the biggest piece of shit boyfriend ever.

"I see," said Charles quietly. "Well, I'm--I actually am surprised." 

"I love you," said Erik desperately.

"I love you, too, Erik," Charles said softly. "It's okay. I--understand. It's just a kiss, and, well, we're both porn stars, right? This isn't the end." Erik wasn't sure which one of them he was trying to convince.

"But?" Erik prompted. He could hear it there, in Charles' voice, unspoken. 

Charles exhaled again, not denying that there was a 'but'. "But I wish you were coming home to me tonight."

Erik put his forehead against the wall, wanting to pound his head until it hurt the way he deserved to hurt. "Soon, Charles, I promise."

**

Emma arrived back at her apartment in the late afternoon, which was blessedly cooler than the outside air. It was also dim and she stopped for a moment, surprised to see Erik sitting on the couch once her eyes adjusted. “Oh,” she said faintly, “That’s right.” She sat down heavily, on the other end of the futon from where Erik was sitting reading a book with Fluffernutter in his lap. For some reason she couldn’t get her thoughts in order and she sat on the futon staring blankly forward with no thoughts at all in her mind. 

“Emma? Is everything alright?”

She could hear the concern in Erik’s voice and felt suddenly irrationally angry at him a multitude of reasons: for being in her apartment still, for being right about the fact that she should have brought an escort with her that day, and for being such a fucking _perfect match_ for her and absolutely blind to it. At least, he had been perfect for her, before that bastard Essex had fucked with his head and made him want men. 

Emma fought to let none of this show on her face. “I got what I need to signed,” she said after a moment, using all her willpower to speak evenly. “Turns out I don’t need Essex’s signature at all; he had already signed everything over to Shaw.”

“Well, that’s great,” he said, looking at her, still confused, “...isn’t it?”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “I’m going to take a nap,” she said, rising unsteadily. She needed to get away from him immediately, she realized. She started to move quickly towards her bedroom but he stood and intercepted her, frowning in concern.

“Emma, what is wrong?” he reached to touch her arm and she jerked it away like his touch burned her.

“Leave it alone!” she shouted at him, feeling both guilty and enraged at the confused look in his green eyes. “Why do you have to--fuck, Erik, I’m doing my best. Be a bastard or don’t but I can’t take it when you--”

He stepped back from her, confused but wary. “Is this really about me?”

“Essex--” She stopped. How could she say this? This wasn’t her. Emma Frost did not let people get to her. Emma Frost was in control. 

“Did he hurt you?” Erik stood in front of her, masculine and gorgeous, wanting to protect her. She felt that from him, as well as his confusion.

“You can’t have it both ways,” she whispered, but that seemed to go completely over his head. She sighed and relaxed a little. It was nice to have someone care, anyway. “He tried. Darwin--interrupted. Thank god.”

Emma saw Erik looking at her throat and face and realized she probably had marks. “Well, maybe her hurt me a little,” she admitted with a small smile. “But not--I’ll be fine, Erik, really.” Even as she said that she felt a lump in her throat and she needed to get away from Erik _right then_ or he would see her crying, and she had gathered from his mind and his reaction the previous night that he wouldn’t handle that well. She almost ran to her bedroom and slammed the door, leaning her back against the closed door and letting the tears fall down her face, angry at herself for being weak enough to cry over such a little thing and angry at herself for being angry at herself. 

She could feel Erik standing outside her bedroom door, she could feel his confused and conflicting desires to both protect her and to stay away from her...and also...Emma’s cheeks flushed as she could feel his desire for her, how he desperately wanted to see her cry but also felt guilt and shame about that.

“So...if you have what you need from him, I can kill Essex then, right? Because I really think I want to.” He said this through the door. Emma was surprised by his words and let out a half-laugh and half-sob. She felt a rush of desire from him at the sound.

Emma felt like she didn’t have the strength to keep fighting a battle that wasn’t hers, anyway. She opened her bedroom door and looked up at Erik, her tear-stained face plainly obvious. If she hadn’t been a telepath she would not have been able to tell what he was thinking from his face; he looked at her impassively. But because she was a telepath she could tell he was exerting every bit of self-control he had not to reach for her. 

“Erik, I--I just need a friend right now. I just need--” Emma knew what she wanted to say, and she didn’t know if it was fair of her to ask or if she had ulterior motives. She just knew what she wanted. “Would you just--hold me?” She looked up at him, trying not to look too pathetic, expecting rejection but hoping for more. 

His brain screamed at him that it was a bad idea, so loudly that Emma even winced. Erik’s eyes widened a fraction as he saw he reaction to his mind. She didn’t hear the immediate decline that she expected though; instead he just looked at her, his face stony as his mind became more ordered. His jaw set. “Yes. Okay. Will you please do me a favor and not read my mind, though?”

Surprised, gratified, Emma nodded and put shields up. He pulled her into his arms and she wrapped her arms around him. He smelled like her shampoo, and like Fluffernutter, and felt warm and safe. It had been a long time since Emma had been held by a man; well, by anyone really. At first she tried to hold back but she started crying uncontrollably. She couldn’t even be sure why but a big part of it was realizing that this was the first and last time time this would ever happen with Erik. 

He shifted uncomfortably and Emma remembered how he must be feeling right now, and she felt herself flush despite the fact that she was staying out of his mind. 

“I, uh, we should move,” he muttered, shifting her body away from his front. Oh, he didn’t want her to notice that…

Emma took a step towards her bed and pulled him reluctantly with her. “Ah--this might be--more comfortable,” she said, not daring to look him in the eye. 

He resisted for a moment and then sighed and lay down on her bed. She laid down on her side next to him with her head on his shoulder, his arm behind her. With his spare arm, Erik grabbed a spare pillow and put it on his stomach. Emma knew what he was hiding and she tried not to think about it but she found being this close to him intoxicating. She rubbed her face against his shirt until it was damp with her tears. She heard his breathing hitch. She hated herself a little bit but she didn’t want to stop. 

“I told Charles,” he said suddenly. 

Emma stiffened. “What did you tell Charles?”

“I told him that we--kissed.” 

“Did you tell him that we kissed, or that you kissed me?”

Erik didn’t have an immediate response for that. “I don’t keep anything from him. Not that I could,” he added with a smile. 

Emma nodded and realized that her hand was stroking Erik’s chest. She snatched it away immediately. They both laid there for a few minutes, not speaking. Erik had effectively interrupted something Emma hadn’t even intended to start. 

Erik turned to her and put his lips so close to her forehead he was almost kissing it. “Are you feeling better?” he murmured. 

Emma knew his words were a prelude to him detaching from her, and yet his actions said otherwise. _Well you knew he was conflicted,_ a snide part of Emma’s brain supplied. 

“I am,” she said answering honestly. “But--I don’t want to see Essex, or be near him, ever again.”

Erik’s arm around Emma tightened in sympathy before the ramifications of what she said percolated through his mind. “Emma, you are a crucial part of the plan for tomorrow night,” he said softly. “Charles needs you there to shield the police presence from Essex’s awareness.”  
Erik didn’t mention that he was hoping she would shield _his_ presence from Charles as well, but she was sure he was thinking that. 

Emma swallowed. That’s right; Moira would be counting on her. She didn’t even realize she was shaking until Erik wrapped his other arm around her. “I can’t,” she said, her voice muffled by his T-shirt. “I can’t do it, Erik, I’m sorry. That bastard--”

“That bastard has raped before and he will rape again,” Erik said, controlling his voice, although Emma could hear the rage just under the surface. “You can prevent that, Emma. You can help make sure he gets what’s coming to him.”

Emma felt the tears starting again. “If I were Charles, I would tell you to fucking kill him,” she choked. 

Erik turned his head to face her. His eyes were a little unfocused as he brought his hand up to touch the tears on her face. Trembling, he moved close enough to her face to brush his lips against the wetness on her cheeks and he let out a tiny sound like a moan as he did. He pulled back a few inches to look at her face again and Emma pressed his hand to her face with her hand and held it there, pushing his thumb against her bottom lip. He watched his thumb move on her lip with heavy-lidded eyes for a moment and then his head curved towards her face. He was a inch away from kissing her when he suddenly pulled away and sat up. 

“No,” he said. “This isn’t right, Emma.” Erik sat up and rolled off the bed before he could second-guess himself and stood up next to the bed. His erection was obviously making a tent in his pants and Emma politely averted her eyes while he adjusted himself. 

“Please come tomorrow night,” he said, and he could not have looked more uncomfortable. “Please, Emma. I will--what you asked me for--I’ll do it.”

Emma looked at him in surprise, daring to hope. “You mean--” she touched her stomach self-consciously. 

He nodded, his jaw tight. “Not that I’m--I mean, I don’t know how I feel about it, I don’t feel ready to be a parent, I haven’t talked to Charles, but--tomorrow night is important, and I know it will be hard for you, but if you can do that--I will--father a child for you. Or, do my best, anyway.” He was looking away as he spoke, but he caught her eyes right after. “I give you my word.”

Emma swallowed. She felt like a terrible person for making her assistance conditional upon something like that, but the idea of having a child, and one not fathered by her horrible rapist of an ex-employer but by this person standing in front of her, this strong and handsome talented man, someone _she chose_ , gave her a feeling of warmth and peace that made the prospect of being near Essex again tolerable. 

“That’s--thank you,” she said softly. “That means a lot to me.” Her eyes quickly went to his as she realized an assumption he might have. “It doesn’t matter to me if we do it--the old-fashioned way or, you know, insemination,” her cheeks flushed as she awkwardly tried to convey that sex was not part of what she expected. 

Erik chuckled. “Well, I can’t say I’d be completely opposed,” he admitted, “But that’s probably not the kind of decision I should be making right now--I’m not exactly clear-headed.”

Emma smiled, a little sadly. “But you are clear-headed enough to decide to become a parent?” 

“Probably not,” he admitted. “But I give you my word, regardless. You can read mind if you want assurance.”

Emma closed her eyes. “Okay. Thank you.” She lay back on the bed and heard Erik leave her room. To her surprise, she actually did nap then.


	16. The Sting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for violence (the bad guys finally get what's coming to them!)

Tuesday night and Wednesday morning dragged for Erik. 6pm Wednesday, the previously decided day and time of their “sting” operation, couldn’t come fast enough for him. He missed Charles and he was impatient with having nothing to do while he waited. Tuesday night had been awkward; after he and Emmas had both napped (separately) Erik had gone to the beach as soon as the sun went down for a few hours, just to be able to give himself and Emma some space. When he'd arrived back at her place late that evening her apartment had been dark except for the light under her bedroom door, and she was talking to someone on the phone. Erik didn't eavesdrop, but based on what he couldn't avoid hearing he suspected she was talking to a woman. He thought it was probably Moira, but the thought that it might have been Raven gave him an unpleasant jolt. 

Erik and Fluffernutter slept on the futon again. The next morning around eleven in the morning Emma got a brief call. "Okay, we're on," she told Erik, getting ready to leave. He knew immediately what she meant.

"What happened to 6pm?" Erik asked, hastily putting his shoes on. 

"Angel told Charles that both Shaw and Essex are at the mansion now, and Moira--and Charles apparently--would rather take care of this sooner rather than later," she said. Her tone was devoid of emotion but Erik could see the strain on her face. She wasn't looking forward to this, but she wanted to get it over and done with. 

"We're meeting at Charles' place," Emma told Erik briskly as they walked to her car. "I'll need you to ride in the backseat, and stay there. You will have to keep silent, and hopefully out of sight as well; I don't know if I can shield you from a telepath as strong as Charles otherwise."

Erik nodded, feeling anxious. 

"I'll try to loop you in, mentally," she said, quieter, "but not if I think it will give your presence away to Charles."

Emma and Erik arrived at Charles' apartment about the same time that Moira pulled up. Emma parked her car a little ways down the street so Erik was out of sight. Fortunately, she also parked in the shade and left a couple windows cracked open. Erik tried not to feel like a pet. 

True to her word, she did project her awareness to Erik as she walked towards Charles' apartment. Erik found it easier to see what she was seeing if he closed his eyes. She knocked once on the door and entered at Charles' yelled, "Come in, Emma!"

Charles had his shirt off when Emma entered as Moira was starting to put the wire on him. Erik tried not to react mentally to that as he didn't want to throw Emma off her stride. 

"Emma, it's good to see you," Charles said to her, smiling, but with a question in his eyes. 

"He's fine," Emma assured him quickly, kissing Charles on the cheek. "And not here. He's sleeping on my futon and will be for a few more hours."

Erik was impressed at how smoothly and easily she lied--and to a powerful telepath like Charles, no less. He also felt guilty on her behalf. 

Charles didn't seem to suspect anything; in fact, he quite obviously relaxed at her words. "Thank you, Emma. I trust he wasn't any--trouble?" The tone in Charles' voice indicated exactly what kind of trouble he was concerned with.

Erik felt Emma's shields going up and he stopped seeing what was happening in Charles’ living room, but he could still hear the conversation in his head. "Nothing I couldn't handle," she said calmly, but with an edge of ice to it. 

"Okay, Charles, you can put your shirt back on now," Moira said. "Remember, the goal is to get Essex to admit to assaulting you, or for Shaw to admit witnessing it. Knowing Essex, he may take advantage of the opportunity to try and take the memory out of your head completely. In fact, that's very likely."

"That's fine," Charles said calmly. "It's not a memory I'm particularly attached to. Besides, I have an offsite backup." 

Nobody said anything for a moment, and Erik realized Charles was trying to make a joke. He felt a rush of love for the silly man.

"Um, ha ha, okay," Moira said awkwardly. "But keep in mind that if he takes your memory before we get anything recorded, you won't remember what you need them to say."

"Ah," said Charles softly. Erik smugly thought that as Charles' backup memory (Charles had shared his memory of the evening of his rape in its entirety with Erik) this might be a valid reason for Erik to intercede if it became necessary...not that he was planning on doing that.

"Darwin's working right now, so unfortunately he won't be able to come," Charles said. Erik could still only hear, but it sounded like Charles was putting his shirt back on. "And Alex is--well, not feeling well today. But Logan is feeling much better, and he's almost out of the shower."

"Hopefully he won't be necessary--oh good lord." That was Moira. Erik didn't know what she was reacting to until Charles said reproachfully, "Really, Logan, you knew there were ladies here."

"They weren't here when I got in the shower," Erik heard Logan grunt. "And my clothes are out here."

So Logan was walking around naked? Erik's temper flared but he tried to keep it under control. He felt a surprising amount of appreciation of Logan's naked form from Emma.

_He's straight, you know,_ Erik thought at her and then he couldn't see or hear anything in the apartment. He wasn't sure if Emma cut him off for being a smartass or if it was because she couldn't shield him if he conversed with her, but he suspected the former. 

A few minutes later they all came out of the apartment and Charles headed to his car but Moira and Logan walked with Emma towards her car. _I'm going to shield you from the both of them as much as I can, too,_ Emma sent to him, answering the unspoken question in his mind. 

Moira got in the passenger seat holding the receiver for the wire Charles was wearing and Logan got in the back, fortunately not on the side Erik was sitting on. Neither of them reacted to him--it was like he was invisible. _Interesting,_ he thought.

Emma got in the car and started following Charles at a respectable distance towards Essex's house in Sherman Oaks. 

Erik leaned over so that his mouth was right next to Logan's ear, ignoring the sharp look from Emma in the rearview mirror. "Do you make a habit of being naked around my boyfriend?" He said in the most menacing tone he could.

"What the fuck--" Logan jumped and three sharp blades shot out of the backs of each of his fists with a _SNIKT_. One stabbed through the white upholstery of Emma's backseat and Emma snapped angrily, " _Erik!_ You are fucking paying for that!"

Logan's head snapped to the side where Erik was sitting. Erik had his biggest and therefore most vicious grin on his face, staring straight at Logan. Logan's eyes were wide when he saw Erik appear out of thin air. 

"Can you not even follow the simplest directions?" Emma snapped at Erik. Erik shrugged. He wasn't concerned that Logan or Moira would betray his presence to Charles, as he knew that neither of them wanted Charles to call off the sting.

Logan recovered quickly from his shock but he was definitely annoyed. "Lehnsherr. You have some nerve. Who do you think was crying on my shoulder while you were making out with Frosty?"

Erik felt his rage start to rise and he reached out with his power to pin Logan in place by his new adamantium skeleton. He was about to snarl a response when he found himself unable to speak. "Boys," said Emma, sounding bored, "Stop fighting or I will pull this car over."

Moira, who had been essentially quiet during the revelation of Erik’s presence, snickered. 

Erik forced himself to calm down. "I'll deal with you later," he muttered to Logan. For some reason Logan was grinning too. _Probably looking forward to slicing someone, the bloodthirsty bastard,_ Erik thought.

The rest of the ride was silent, growing slightly tenser as they got closer to Essex's house. "This is close enough," Moira said when they were a couple hundred yards away. 

"You don't think we should be closer?" Erik said anxiously. 

"Shut up, Erik," Emma said. He resentfully did.

Apparently Emma was in telepathic contact with Charles and Emma started projecting to Erik (and he assumed Moira and Logan too) what Charles was doing as he walked up to the front door. Erik wondered if he had even a single weapon on him, suddenly feeling like this was a very bad idea.

Angel answered the front door. "Oh, hi, Charles, this is a surprise," she said, her eyes darting to the side. "Come in."

Erik didn't like it already, but he held his tongue. Something felt off.

"I'd like to see Dr. Essex, please, Angel," Charles said. Erik couldn't see Charles because Emma was relaying what he was seeing through his eyes.

"He's on his way," Angel said, after a brief disappearance to another room. She spoke to Charles in a light voice but her eyes showed the tension she was feeling. 

Essex came out into the foyer with Shaw trailing like a pet waiting for a treat. Emma shuddered and the vision flickered. Erik leaned forward to touch her on the shoulder and Moira reached for her hand. _You're safe,_ Erik thought to her. She took a deep breath and a moment later what Charles was seeing flickered back into view. 

"Oh," said Charles faintly. He seemed to be responding to some internal realization. Erik had a sudden panicked thought that Charles was aware of him being nearby because of Emma’s slight lapse. _Shit,_ thought Erik, but Emma sent him a feeling that could only be described as shushing. 

"Dr. Xavier," Essex said smoothly, and then corrected himself. "Oh--it's not quite _doctor_ yet, is it?" 

They all felt the rush of annoyance from Charles at the academic snobbery and Logan rolled his eyes. Erik loved Charles so much it hurt. 

"I don't want to play games with you," Charles said quietly and immediately everyone in the car was leaning forward, barely breathing. "You both know what you did to me, and to my career. Neither Erik nor I has worked since then, and we need money."

Essex frowned. "Erik? Who's Erik?"

Erik frowned. Moira hissed " _Shit!_ " and Logan looked puzzled. 

Charles felt a mild surge of panic, and all four people in the car felt it too. "Oh, just the other fellow in that film we’ve been working on. We've become friends."

Erik suddenly realized--Charles had assumed that Essex and Shaw knew about his relationship with Erik. But if they hadn't--then all of a sudden they would realize they might have a little more leverage over both of them. Erik's blood ran cold.

"Oh, yes, Erik," Shaw said, with a very unpleasant smile. "Very agreeable young man. He was a tenant for a while, Nathaniel," Shaw said to Essex, as if to remind him. “One of my special tenants.”

"Ah, well, you would know him better than I," Essex returned mildly. 

Logan looked over at Erik and seemed ready to restrain him if necessary but Erik gritted his teeth and waved the man's gaze away. He didn't care what they said about him; he just wanted them to say whatever Moira needed them to say for the recording so that Emma and Charles could melt these assholes minds and they could all get out of there. From the tight line Moira had her lips pressed in, though, Erik guessed that she had not yet recorded anything she considered incriminating enough yet.

"I didn't have such a good time the last time I was here," Charles said. His voice trembled a little. 

"You mean you didn't enjoy our party?" Essex said, with a half-smile. "Pity. I very much enjoyed having you here. I might enjoy having you again." He took a step closer to Charles, looking at his mouth.

Charles took a step back. "Even if I don't want to be had?" he asked. 

Something made Essex pause. "Why are you here, Charles?" he asked. The older telepath’s eyes seemed to bore into Charles’ head and they could all feel Charles’ awareness change slightly like he was slipping into a trance.

"Because I want to trick you into saying something incriminating," Charles responded. The people in the car felt Charles’ shock at having answered the question honestly. 

Moira gasped and Erik and Logan were already out of the car and running towards the house. Emma kept the telepathic connection going and Erik was surprised at how easy it was to see two things happening--he was running at the same time that he could see the foyer that Charles, Essex and Shaw were standing in. 

"Are we having more guests, Nathaniel?" Shaw said to Essex.

"Yes, two men," Essex replied. "They'll be here very soon."

Logan and Erik burst through the door seconds later. 

Charles was standing frozen in front of Essex. Erik went over to him immediately but his eyes were unfocused, unseeing. "What the fuck did you do to him?" Erik screamed, turning to face Essex. 

Recognition dawned on his face. "Oh! I remember you! Are you the 'Erik' that Mr. Xavier was talking about? Well, that is a pity." 

Erik didn't know why it was a pity and didn't want to know why. 

"Erik," Shaw said, "Tsk, tsk. Do you know you never fully paid your last month's rent?"

And suddenly Erik was frozen too, under Essex's mental grip. Shaw walked up to him and eyed him appraisingly. "Penalty for late payment is no lube, by the way." He laughed and unbuttoned Erik's pants. 

Despite his anger, Erik felt an ugly fear in him. He didn't hear anything from Logan, so he was probably frozen too. 

"Sebastian, wait a moment," Essex said thoughtfully. "I think you'll like this better." 

Erik felt something shift in his mind. He couldn't put his finger on it, but the idea of Shaw fucking him suddenly became far worse than intolerable. 

Shaw looked at Erik's facial expression and literally cackled with glee. "Nathaniel, you know me so well! What did you do?"

"I just undid something I did for Erik here a number of years ago," Essex said, looking extremely pleased with himself. "I never expected it to stick as well as it did. Anyway, I just fixed it! You should feel honored, Erik," Essex said, coming to stand in front of Erik so that his face was only inches away from Erik's face. "I don't usually undo things like that. I just thought my twisted friend Sebastian would have a little more fun fucking a straight man."

Shaw gasped and nearly pushed Essex aside in his eagerness to finish undoing Erik's pants. As they dropped to his ankles, he heard Charles’ mental yell, _**Emma, NOW!**_

Erik was abruptly free to move and he immediately backhanded Shaw, who fell on the ground and stayed there. Logan came up next to Erik, snarling, but they both paused at the sight; Shaw was on the ground, looking like he was losing a mental battle with someone, and Essex and Charles were both standing stock-still, glaring at each other and sweating. 

_He's stronger than I thought,_ Erik heard weakly from Charles, before his eyes started to roll up in his head. Erik panicked; he would have attacked physically but his pants were still around his ankles. Instead, he did the first thing he could think of--he reached out with his power and found the largest mass of metal in the room and threw it at Essex.

Unfortunately, that was Logan. 

Logan somehow twisted mid-air and flew with his blades out. He landed with all six blades deeply embedded in Essex's body. Erik felt a combined vicious pleasure and horror as he saw blood spurting from Essex's falling body--Erik did this, and now Charles would never forgive him--

Charles had just lost consciousness and was falling over, Erik leaped to catch him--

Logan turned and viciously stabbed the prone and unconscious Shaw much the way Essex had been stabbed. 

Erik's jaw dropped in shock at Logan’s actions even as he fell with Charles to the marble floor, cushioning the smaller man's fall. _Please, let him be okay,_ Erik prayed to a deity he did not believe in as they landed hard. 

Less than thirty seconds had passed from the time that Shaw dropped Erik's pants. Angel came running into the room. "Jesus Christ, I just went to get water!" she exclaimed. 

Logan looked at her and grinned. He seemed absolutely pleased with himself. "You missed all the action, toots," he said to Angel. 

Erik was not in the mood for levity. "Emma!" he screamed, holding Charles' head in his lap. 

_I'm here, Erik._

Emma's mental voice didn't have the warmth of Charles' but it had a cool calmness to it that he appreciated for its own sake. "Please, can you reach Charles? Is he--?" He spoke out loud, but he knew Emma could hear him mentally. 

Silence, and then Charles frowned and moaned a bit. He opened one eye cautiously. "Head...hurts," he mumbled. Erik's relief was a palpable thing. 

_I TOLD YOU NOT TO COME_

Erik winced at the strength of Charles' voice inside his head. "Charles, please, let's discuss it later. You need--"

"Did you kill anyone?" Charles spoke this, quietly, looking up at Erik with suddenly sharp and clear blue eyes. 

Erik didn't know how to answer that--he didn’t know how much of what happened to Essex was him and how much was Logan. Charles saw the look on his face and sighed deeply, bringing a hand to his forehead. "Get off me, please."

Charles was actually on Erik, but Erik carefully moved so that Charles was no longer in his lap. He kept Charles' hand in his until Charles ripped it back a few moments later. 

"Angel, dear, would you help me up?" 

Angel meekly came over to Charles and helped him stand up. Erik watched with a horrible sinking feeling. He turned to Logan, ashen-faced. Logan frowned to see the look on his face and then looked at Charles, leaning on Angel and glaring at Erik, and he seemed to gain some understanding of what was going on. 

"Hey, Chuck," Logan said slowly, "All this bleeding happening here--that was all me. You know that, right?"

Erik wasn't even sure _he_ knew that. He didn't know what his intention was when he threw Logan at Essex, other than to make him stop hurting Charles--although killing Shaw was clearly all Logan. 

"Logan." Charles looked at the burly man with his lips pressed in a tight line. "How could you do this?"

"Because it needed to be done, and I can live with you never talking to me again, if it means you are alive," Logan said bluntly, pulling out a cigar from somewhere and lighting it. He indicated Erik with a nod of his head. "This guy, though, can't live without you, so cut him some slack."

Charles looked at Erik. He was not convinced, Erik could see. "You came, even though I asked you not to. I didn't sense you, which means Emma hid you from me, which means she lied to me. Is there anything else you are keeping from me, Erik? You and Emma? You are apparently straight now, too, so I suppose--"

"That's not my fault!" Erik exclaimed, desperately, finally hearing something his could argue with. 

Charles just shook his head. "It's not my fault I'm gay, Erik, but it doesn't change anything, does it?"

Erik had no idea what to say, except: "I love you." He said it so softly it was almost entirely air.

Finally, Erik saw the tiniest bit of softening in Charles's face. "If you do feel that way, then Essex must have been mistaken. Do you mind if I...?" He waggled his fingers at Erik, so strongly expecting a yes that he started to delve even before Erik could reply.

"No! No, please, not right now," Erik said desperately. Mostly Erik was thinking that he didn't want Charles to see what had happened with Emma the previous afternoon, including how he had agreed to father a child for Emma. Erik didn't plan on keeping any of this information from Charles; he just wanted to be able to present it at a time when he didn't feel like his entire relationship was on the line. 

Also, Erik had realized something that he definitely did not want Charles to see in his mind: Essex had succeeded. Erik was straight.


	17. Straight

“Guys, you’ll need to sort this out later,” Logan said, clapping a hand each on Erik’s and Charles’ shoulders. “There’s two corpses on the floor bleeding out; we need to leave pronto.”

Erik and Charles let themselves be herded outside by Logan. Angel did not come with them; Charles reached for her mind with a question and she replied, _Don’t worry about me. I’m going to wait until you are all out of here and then I’m going to call the cops._

_Are you alright, dear? That’s a lot of violence to witness…_ Charles conversed with Angel mentally, pressing two fingers to his temple to help him focus, even as Logan hustled them to Emma’s waiting car. 

_Fortunately I didn’t actually witness it, so I can be honest with the cops about that once they get here. Anyway, don’t worry about me. I’ve seen worse._ Charles remembered touching her mind before, remembered visions of mutants mutilated in gang wars. 

Charles felt like he had more questions for Angel about what she was planning to say to the police, but he was finding it hard to articulate them. A stabbing pain shot through his temple and he cried out and stumbled a few feet away from Emma’s car. Both Erik and Logan reached out to steady him and Charles pulled away from both of them. He felt Erik’s stab of hurt at that but pushed it out of his mind. 

“Charles is in no condition to drive,” Emma said when she saw him stumble. “Logan, will you drive his car back to his place?” 

Logan nodded and accepted the keys from Charles, turning around to jog back to Charles’ car. Erik and Charles climbed in the backseat of Emma’s car because Moira was passed out in the front seat. 

“Moira is my friend, but she’s still a cop,” Emma explained. “I didn’t want her to feel too much of a conflict of interest, so I put her to sleep.” She started driving and said, “We need to discuss something.”

There was a pause, and then Charles heard Emma telepathically say to Erik, rolling her eyes, _Not everything is about you, Erik,_ clearly in response to something he said. 

Emma continued out loud. “Charles’ wire was recording until I turned it off, which was as you were all running out of the house. As far as I could tell, there is only one person who is really incriminated by the recording, and it’s not who we had planned it to be.”

Erik frowned, and then said “Logan,” in sudden realization. Logan had claimed responsibility right there in the foyer.

Emma nodded. 

“When did you make Moira fall asleep?” Charles asked. Because if she had witnessed what had happened through Emma’s mind--

“Right about the time you said ‘Now, Emma’,” Emma replied. “But it’s a moot point, because either you or I could take or alter her memories. Not that I’m suggesting that, necessarily; I just want to put all the options on the table.”

Charles nodded thoughtfully, then said quietly, “Logan did just murder two men in cold blood.” 

Emma raised her eyebrow and inclined her head in agreement and Erik turned his head to look at Charles in disbelief. “He did that because of you, you know,” Erik said, accusingly.

“The police are going to want to pin a double-homicide on _someone_ ,” Emma said, reasonably. Charles skimmed her surface thoughts--she hadn’t put her shields back up yet--and he saw motivated self-interest in her mind. If Logan was fingered, Emma would be absolved of suspicion. And she was worried she might be implicated because--

Emma’s telepathic shields slammed down and she gave Charles a tight look in the rearview mirror. “ _I’m_ interested in justice being served,” he said pointedly. “I didn’t ask or expect Logan, or anyone, to kill. In fact I distinctly remember requesting the opposite, several times.” He glared at Erik.

Erik shook his head. “I didn’t ask Logan to do what he did. And, if that was his plan all along, he certainly never told me.” Erik looked at Charles. “But I would be lying if I told you I didn’t condone his actions.” He paused and looked at Emma in the rearview mirror. “ _And_ , I won’t be a part of any plan to frame him. Fuck, Emma, really?” Erik’s voice rose in anger as he directed the last part towards the front seat.

“I just wanted to put all the options on the table,” she said coolly.

“Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about you two running away together,” Charles said lightly. 

Emma snorted and Erik said, “Charles…” pleadingly. Charles pointedly did not look at him.

“There’s no longer any evidence against Logan,” Erik said calmly a moment later. “I took care of it.” 

Emma’s head snapped to the recording device sitting in Moira’s lap. Magnetic tape. Charles sighed and rubbed his forehead. He was not surprised that Erik would act to protect Logan, even though he was usually hostile to the man. It just fit Erik’s moral code, which unfortunately was not the same as Charles’ moral code. He groaned a bit as he reflected that this would all be easier to deal with if he didn’t have a splitting headache.

**

Nobody spoke again until they pulled up at Charles’ apartment. Emma stopped the car and sighed. Without making a move to get out of the car, she said, “What are we going to tell Moira?”

Both Charles and Erik were silent, sitting the the backseat, thinking this over. “What do you think, Emma?” Charles finally asked her. Although he was still a bit angry with her for lying to him about Erik’s presence earlier, from what he knew of Emma, he knew her to be pragmatic above all else. 

“I think the safest thing would be if she did not remember anything about either Essex or Shaw,” she said slowly. There was hesitance in her voice.

“That sounds viable,” Erik said. “It’s not like she ever had another cop involved in this situation--between the two of you, you should be able to make that happen, right?” Erik’s eyebrows were up, looking back and forth between Emma and Charles. He liked this solution, Charles could see--he had never been happy to have a cop in his life anyway.

But Emma didn’t. Charles could feel the emotion welling up in her and Emma normally did not project. 

“Why not, Emma?” Charles said softly and Erik frowned.

Emma shook her head and let out a surprised huff of laughter. “It’s just--that’s how Moira and I met, when we talked after the rally in Venice. She asked about Shaw and I ended up telling her all about him and Essex.” _She’s my only friend,_ Charles heard in his mind, the words clearly hard for her to say out loud. 

“So, is this the solution for the Moira problem?” Erik said bluntly. “I’d kind of like to get out this car during this lifetime.”

“It’s the best I can think of,” Charles admitted. “Unless...well, Emma, what if we implant some slightly different memories, like making Moira believe that she referred the case to police in another jurisdiction right after you told her about it--her beat’s in Venice anyway, not the Valley, isn’t it? You can tell her tonight that Shaw and Essex were found dead today. You will still be friends, although she won’t remember meeting any of the rest of us.” Charles looked at the sleeping Moira with the tiniest frown. “Pity--I liked her."

“I like that,” Emma whispered. She cleared her throat and said louder, “Thank you, Charles.”

Charles smiled, pleased that he’d found a solution she could live with. He didn’t think he would be able to act the same way, in her place. He would always know there was something he wasn’t telling, and it would eat him up inside. But Emma was made of sterner stuff than he. 

“Before we leave this car,” Charles said quietly, “Would one of you like to tell me what the two of you are keeping from me?”

Erik and Emma exchanged glances in the rearview mirror. Charles could tell they were conversing telepathically and he tried very hard for his feelings not to be hurt by this. 

Erik started to reach for Charles’ hand, but pulled away at the last second and clenched his fist instead. “I’ll tell you, on my own. As soon as Emma leaves.”

Charles bit his lip and nodded. 

**

Erik, as uncomfortable with the crowded apartment as ever, suggested they walk to the home Charles was buying for their talk. Charles agreed and they walked there in silence. Erik used his power to unlock the door and they went inside and through to the huge backyard. 

Charles looked small and scared. Erik pulled him into a hug that Charles resisted at first, but he finally melted against Erik with a sigh. 

“I love you,” Erik whispered to the top of Charles’ head. “Which is really weird, because my brain is telling me I’m straight.”

Charles didn’t know how to process this. “But--you do know I’m a man, right?”

Charles heard the reverberation of Erik’s chuckle through his chest. “Oh, I know, believe me. I can’t explain it. When I think about men in general--nothing. But when I think about you--” Erik pulled back from Charles and looked into his eyes. “I want you. I love you.”

“Maybe you won’t always feel that way,” Charles whispered. 

“Maybe,” Erik agreed reluctantly. “But can anyone make that kind of promise?”

“Maybe you are just too stubborn to admit you don’t feel that way about me anymore.”

Erik shook his head, pulling Charles back into a firm hug. “That’s not true at all, and I can prove that to you by showing you my mind. But I need to tell you something else first.”

Charles waited, terrified and trying not to show it.

“Emma lied to you about me being there today because I promised her I would do something for her.” Erik said, his voice carefully steady. “It’s not something I want to do, and it may not be a good idea at all. But I couldn’t bear the thought of not being there today.” He pushed a lock of hair back from Charles’ face. “So I promised her I would.”

“I just didn’t want you to kill or be killed,” Charles said bluntly. Then his blue eyes went wide. “Did you promise to kill someone for her, Erik?”

“Ah…” Erik laughed nervously. “No. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

“Oh--so she just wants to fuck? And you didn’t already? Well, I essentially told you that was fine, already, didn’t I? I mean not fine, exactly, but it’s not something that--”

“Charles,” Erik said interrupting, desperately, “She wants me to father a child for her.”

Charles stopped talking and looked at Erik in surprise. “Oh!” He looked at Erik. “And you--you promised you would?”

“I gave her my word,” Erik said. He stood tall, meeting Charles’ gaze evenly, afraid but determined. 

“So…” Charles took a step away from Erik. “You are straight and you are going to father a child with Emma.” He looked up at Erik, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. “Have you already gotten started?”

“God, no, Charles.” Erik rubbed a hand on his neck, clearly frustrated. “For someone who insists he wouldn’t be upset about it, you sure are hung up on the idea of me and Emma having sex.”

_”I’m_ hung up?” Charles said incredulously. “You’re the one who’s planning on having a fucking child with her!”

“We don’t have to have sex to do that,” Erik said quietly. “I didn’t promise her that.”

“Does she think, though--”

“No, Charles, she doesn’t.” Erik sighed. “Maybe you’d better just look for yourself?” He wiggled his fingers at Charles. 

If Erik thought Charles would be shy about it, he was mistaken. _Finally,_ thought Charles, delving into Erik’s memories from the night before. His breath caught when Emma and Erik almost kissed, but then Erik stood up and said his piece about being willing to father a child. 

“You…” Charles paused. “You have admirable self-control, my friend.”

Erik exhaled and closed his eyes. “Thank you? I’d like to think you would have done the same.”

“I don’t know,” Charles admitted. “Well, not with Emma. But she’s more your type than mine.”

“Physically,” Erik growled, amending Charles’ statement. “Sex is one thing, but she’s not someone I want to wake up next to.”

“And I am?” Charles said softly. 

Erik looked into Charles’ eyes and wanted to never look away. “Absolutely. Every day.”

Charles’ mouth made a cute moue. “I’m not sure I believe you are still attracted to me,” he said coquettishly.

Erik’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, really?” 

"If I say I want you to suck my cock, how do you feel?"

Erik got on his knees and started unbuttoning Charles' pants. 

"Erik!" Charles blushed and pulled Erik to his feet. "Not here."

"We did it here before," Erik murmured, nuzzling the side of Charles' head.

Charles hesitated. He wanted to reaffirm his relationship with Erik, wanted to be reassured--okay, he wanted to be fucked into oblivion--and he also wanted to have privacy and comfort and not feel rushed. The apartment _was_ too crowded; Alex was sick and Logan...Logan was something that Charles was not ready to deal with yet. "Hotel?" He said to Erik.

Erik's pupils dilated and his breathing changed. "That sounds expensive."

"This is important," Charles replied softly, running his fingers behind Erik's neck and pulling him in for a kiss. "This is for science."

"Well, if it's for science," Erik said, hungrily kissing Charles before they went back to Charles’ apartment as quickly as they could.

**

Erik went inside the apartment to gather what he and Charles would need for an overnight stay. Charles had asked if Erik would get everything while he waited in the car because Charles was still fighting a headache. Erik also suspected it was because Charles didn't want to see Logan.

Logan was stretched out on the bed in the living room, but since the room was dim, Erik didn't see him until the front door was open and he was almost ready to leave. "Logan," Erik said. He wasn't sure what to say. 

"Erik," said Logan, his eyes closed. He was more subdued than Erik had ever seen him before.

"Are you okay?" Erik said uncertainly.

Logan puffed air out his nostrils. "Yeah, bub, I'm always ok."

Erik couldn't leave just yet for some reason. "What you did today..." Erik looked outside at the car Charles was waiting in. "I don't think Charles is going to forgive you."

"I don't reckon he will," said Logan. "It's about time for Hugeman Jack to disappear, anyway. I got a little cabin in Canada that's been waiting for me." He looked up at Erik for the first time. "Are you and him gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think we are." Erik smiled to himself. "We getting a hotel room tonight. Don't wait up."

"Glad to hear it," Logan grunted. "I got a little worried with all that straight talk--thought you might be trading in Frankie X for the Ice Princess."

Erik chuckled. "No way." He got the feeling it might be the last time he'd see Logan, so he paused and said, "Hey--I'm sorry if I was ever a dick to you."

"If?" Logan grinned at him. 

"Yeah, fuck you," Erik said with a smile. "And...thank you."

Logan waved it away. "Tell Charles..." Logan paused. "Tell him I'll be gone when you guys get back."

Erik gave him a sad but understanding smile and nodded once before he was out the door.

**

The booked a room at the Marriott in Universal City. Erik had imagined that he would fuck Charles against the wall the minute they got into the hotel room, but Charles still had a headache and neither of them had eaten in a while. They ordered pizza delivery and took turns in the shower while they waited for the pizza to arrive, then ate on the bed wearing towels while they watched afternoon talk shows on television. 

They had finished eating and were lying next to each other when Charles said, "Are you really still attracted to me?"

Erik turned to face him immediately. "Yes. Yes. Definitely."

"Well, you haven't..." Charles bit his lip. "You haven't, you know, touched me, and we showered separately..."

"I was trying to--I thought you had a headache," Erik said, haltingly. "But I want to touch you very much." He kissed Charles' shoulder. "I just wanted to make sure you wanted it."

"I'm here, aren't I?" Charles smiled. "I do have a headache, but it doesn't stop me from wanting you."

Erik rolled Charles over onto his back. "I want to know all of you," he whispered to Charles neck, placing kisses along Charles collarbone. "I want to explore you like a country and claim every part of you for myself."

Charles giggled. "Shouldn't I be the one reclaiming you?" he said lightly. "You're the one who spent the night with another woman."

"I didn't," growled Erik, nipping at Charles' ribs. “Not like that.” He took the towel Charles was wearing off him so that Charles was completely naked. Charles’ penis was about half-erect and Erik felt split for a moment looking at it; a part of his mind said _nope, no thank you, not for me_ but another wanted to lick and touch and make Charles moan and pant. He hesitated. 

“Erik?” Charles asked. His voice was thick with concern. 

Erik closed his eyes and kissed Charles’ penis, chastely, breathing in the familiar scent. “Stay out my head for while, okay?” he murmured. 

“Erik…” Charles’ tone was pleading. Erik’s words worried him and he was fearing the worst; Erik didn’t have to be a mind-reader to know that. Erik didn’t respond verbally, though; instead he licked at Charles’ penis, keeping his eyes closed. Charles’ dick was rapidly getting more and more turgid. Erik started with tiny licks, moving upward until he reached the head, then pressing the flat of his tongue against the frenulum. He looked up at Charles while he did that and saw Charles looking down at him with glassy blue eyes. Not breaking eye contact, Erik swirled his tongue around the head and sucked it inside his mouth. Charles’ eyes closed and he let out a little whimper.

“You--like that?” Charles asked breathlessly. It was a real question.

Erik incorporated his vehement nod into his oral ministrations. “Do you?” He took Charles’ penis as far into his mouth as he could which was most of the way. 

That turned out to be a mistake because his gag reflex kicked in. 

His abdomen clenched and his eyes watered, but he held his mouth in place, his throat convulsing around Charles’ cock. Through professional experience he knew this would feel good for Charles and in fact Charles groaned and bucked his hips up, both hands grasping at Erik’s hair. A moment later he pulled Erik’s head off his cock, ignoring Erik’s huff of discontent about that. 

“Erik, I have never known you to gag on cock,” Charles said, “And I’ve seen most of your movies by now. You don’t want me in your head - can we please talk about this?”

Reluctantly Erik pulled his body up so that his face was at the same level as Charles’. “It’s really hard to explain,” he mumbled. He felt conflicted and ashamed. He was also very much trying to hide the fact that his own penis was almost entirely flaccid. 

Charles gazed at him, for once trying to read Erik without his telepathy. “I wish I knew what to tell you to make it better, or easier,” he said quietly. “I think maybe you are concerned about hurting my feelings. I’m not a blushing flower, Erik. I am a grown man and I assure you I have survived worse than whatever you think you might put me through by being open with me.”

Erik didn’t say anything for a moment, his eyes roving over Charles’ face. He thought this was probably bravado on Charles’ part, but hearing it helped Erik.

“It’s like I have two sets of thoughts in my head,” he said slowly, touching Charles’ chest absentmindedly. “Two personalities, almost. One remembers you, loves you, wants you. The other--” he chuckled. “It’s like some frat guy, talking in my ear, telling me I don’t like cock. But I do,” he hastily assured Charles. “Hey--do you think--whatever Essex did, could you undo it? Or--redo it?”

Charles bit his lip. Erik’s penis twitched and he was distracted by feeling really happy about that for a moment as Charles responded. “I--I have been preparing to tell you ‘no’ to this question all day,” he said slowly. “Partly because it feels wrong to me to do that, to alter such an important aspect of a person. But mostly because--well, I don’t think these kinds of changes stick. Like when I tried to relieve you of your crying fetish--it helped temporarily, but then it came back. At least I assume it did, considering the spectacular spanking you gave me a few days ago,” he added, his eyes darkening as he remembered.

Erik’s penis definitely remembered. His wandering hand squeezed Charles’ nipple. Charles caught the hand and brought it to his mouth and kissed it. 

“So how did it stick when Essex did it?” Erik said. His voice was deeper than usual as he kept thinking about the last time he’d had sex with Charles. 

“Maybe it was always there,” Charles murmured. “Maybe your ‘straightness’ was always more of a social construct. Maybe Essex gave you back an straight identity but not a true orientation.”

Erik felt too far away from Charles. He moved his body so that he was directly on top of the other man. “Doesn’t that contradict what you said before, when you first discovered this in my mind?” He kissed Charles’ neck. 

Charles laughed helplessly and shook his head. “Fuck, Erik, I’m making this up as I go along. Sexuality is complicated--I did tell you that.”

Erik huffed air out. His cock was almost fully erect. “In some ways it’s simple. For instance, I want to fuck you. That’s pretty straightforward.”

Charles eyes danced with amusement. “Well, it’s forward, but it’s not straight.” 

Erik grinned and leaned forward to kiss Charles, languidly but deeply. Charles mouth opened under his eagerly, his tongue sliding its way into Erik’s mouth, moving teasingly out of the way when Erik wanted to capture it and suck on it. 

“Come into my mind,” he whispered to Charles when they finally broke their kiss. The warm feeling of Charles’ presence was immediately there with him and Erik didn’t hold anything back--his sudden mixed feelings when he looked at Charles’ penis, the reluctance of his erection (which was in full force now), and the passion and desire he felt for Charles. 

And he felt from Charles--acceptance. Love. Desire. His saw himself though Charles’ eyes for a moment, impossibly good-looking, eyes hungry with desire. “I want to eat you,” Erik growled, biting at Charles’ neck and suckign in the flesh there. He tasted so good, freshly showered, but with the familiar sweet _Charles_ flavor that drove him mad.

“Oh, for a minute I thought you meant…” Charles grinned at him and pushed an image into his mind. Erik grinned back and raised an eyebrow.

“I did mean that,” he said, pushing his body down on the bed and Charles’ legs up in the air. He grabbed a pillow and put in under Charles’ hips and then frowned when it still wasn’t exactly the angle that he wanted. He looked around impatiently and saw lamps jutting out of the wall, one on each side of the bed. He called to them with his power and wrapped a ribbon of metal around each of Charles’ knees, using the metal to pull Charles’ knees up and back so that Charles was spread open in front of him. Charles gasped with the feeling of it. Erik could feel the pleasure--he loved this, being wide open for Erik to do with as he pleased. 

Erik slapped Charles’ inner thigh, causing the brunette to buck and whimper. Charles’ cock was stiff and a bead of pre-come was just emerging from the tip. Erik admired the view for a moment--Charles’ balls were hanging, vulnerable, also subject to Erik’s whims. Erik breathed on them hotly and then moved his face down and touched the tip of his tongue to Charles puckered opening and he felt the thrill of it through Charles’ mind. Grasping Charles’ hips with his hands for leverage, he licked deeply, pressing his tongue inside. Charles’ whimpers gave way to whines as Erik fucked his ass with his tongue. 

Charles was begging him by the time he lubed up and put in a finger. He started biting Charles’ inner thigh as he did this, wanting to mark him. He added a second finger when his mental connection with Charles screamed out for him to do it, starting gently but then moving them in and out relentlessly. 

Erik reached for his bag and pulled out something that he knew Charles wasn’t expecting. He lubed it thoroughly and started pressing the butt plug into Charles’s ass slowly, working it inside with some gentle pushing and pulling, making sure the lube facilitated the entry all the way around. It was a big plug--size four, they called it in the industry, slightly more than two and a half inches in diameter at the widest point--and Erik took his time to not hurt Charles, but he did allow himself a grin as Charles gave him a look of desire tinged with trepidation. _How big is this going to get?_ his thought, as his body squirmed but slowly accepted the invasion. 

Erik kissed Charles’ hipbones while he continued to push the butt plug in. “I know what you can take,” he murmured. “I won’t hurt you. But I do want you to feel this tomorrow.”

Erik’s words made Charles shudder with desire and Erik took advantage to finally push the butt plug in far enough the get it past the widest point, after which it tapered back to a more reasonable size. Charles was sweating with the exertion of it and Erik grinned. He mouthed at Charles’s penis for a moment and then flipped the switch on the wire in his hand, the one attached to the butt plug settled snugly in Charles’ ass. 

Charles yelped in surprise and started moaning loudly as the vibrating butt plug jarred his prostate. Erik took the head of Charles’ cock in his mouth and wrapped his fist around the bottom base of it, pumping his lover’s cock while he swirled his tongue around the head inside his mouth. With his other hand, he pushed the butt plug so it moved just a bit inside Charles’, making the other man buck and yell out, his pleasure so intense it was almost painful. 

As he expected, it wasn’t long before Charles came with a loud grunt and a clenching of his entire body. Erik turned off the vibrator and swallowed the semen eagerly, ignoring the new voice in his brain saying, _whoa, that’s cum, no way man,_ as he did so. He thought it was getting weaker. He kept Charles’ cock in his mouth even as it softened, gently pressing his tongue to the head inside his mouth to help prolong the pleasure Charles was feeling. 

Charles was boneless after, his eyes barely open. “I’m going to take this out,” Erik murmured. “Try to relax.”

Charles nodded and he couldn’t help the hitch in his breathing as Erik worked the huge butt plug out of him--he whimpered as the widest part held his ass open impossibly wide for the second time that day for a short moment until the natural elasticity of his sphincter slowly pushed it the rest of the way out. 

“Do you need to rest?” Erik whispered, kissing Charles’ inner thigh.

“That depends on how much active participation you desire,” Charles said lazily.

Erik couldn’t explain it, but he loved this version of Charles--pliant, submissive. “I want to fuck your ass,” he said throatily.

“Sounds lovely,” Charles said with a smile. “Would you be a dear and free my knees, though?”

Erik withdrew the metal and had an idea--he turned Charles over so he was lying on his front, the pillow still underneath his hips. “This okay?” He murmured.

“Mmm, yes.” Charles folded his arms under his head and made himself comfortable, arching his back so his ass was in the air. 

Erik rolled a condom on his erect and nearly throbbing cock and poised himself behind Charles, adding one last coat of lube. He entered slowly and he felt Charles’ body hot and tight wrapped around him but he still slipped in easily. Charles groaned with delight. 

Erik kissed Charles back near his shoulder blades as he slowly started fucking his boyfriend’s ass. For the first time he could remember, he felt impatience with the presence of the condom. He wanted to feel _Charles_ on his flesh. 

“Take it off,” Charles said breathlessly.

“Are you sure?”

Charles squeezed his ass cheeks together and Erik gasped as his hips moved of the own accord, fucking into Charles. He pulled out carefully and Charles whined at the withdrawal. “Hey, you told me to,” Erik pointed out as he whipped the condom off and hastily slapped some lube on his penis. He re-entered Charles and the difference was palpable, the heat more intense. He gritted his teeth trying to go slow but Charles said, “ _Fuck_ me, dammit,” and Erik started snapping his hips into Charles’ ass with abandon. He felt Charles riding his awareness with him, Charles watching himself get fucked in the ass and feeling how it magnified his lover’s pleasure that much more. Through their mental connection Charles sent requests that Erik was happy to do - Charles wanted his hair pulled and his ass slapped while he was being so mercilessly fucked. 

Charles then mentally requested something that gave Erik pause, as they’d never done it before. Erik was close to climaxing but he obliged Charles by sliding his right hand around Charles’ head so his hand was covering Charles’ mouth and his thumb and forefinger were pinching Charles’ nose shut.

_How will I know…?_ Erik asked. Charles body had begun bucking with pleasure as the oxygen retreated from his limbs.

_I’ll tell you,_ Charles assured him telepathically. 

Charles’ body was reduced to mere trembling and Erik was desperately close to orgasm when Charles thought _NOW,_ and Erik immediately moved his hand from Charles’ face. The flood of pleasure in Charles’ mind as he gasped in air for the first time in almost a minute spilled over to Erik’s mind and he yelled loudly as he came intensely, his vision whiting out as he pumped into Charles like his life depended on it. 

Afterward, he lay on Charles for a moment, both men panting and sweaty and utterly unable to move. Finally Charles wriggled a bit to communicate a dissatisfaction with the position and Erik reluctantly pushed himself off and carefully withdrew his cock from Charles. He grabbed the nearby towel that Charles had been wearing earlier and used that to keep from ruining the bedspread completely with body fluids and lube as he pulled out. 

“Man,” Erik said after a moment, flopping next to Charles on the king-size bed. “I thought I was kinky until I met you.”

Charles gave him a self-satisfied smile. “You have your kinks, I have mine,” he said, with a cheeky grin. “Fortunately, ours seem to be compatible.”

Erik smiled as he drifted off into a very satisfying post-coital nap.


	18. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a blast to write. Thank you for every comment and kudo and I hope you like the way all the pieces fall!

They checked out of the hotel the next day in high spirits. As they drove home Erik felt confident that the frat boy inside him, as he had begun to think of the part of himself that identified as straight, would be smothered out of existence over time. He didn’t care if he wasn’t attracted to other men as long as he wanted Charles, and it appeared _that_ attraction was bone-deep for him. 

“Bone-deep,” Charles giggled next to him in the passenger seat. Erik grinned at him.

Charles called Angel on their way home--after getting her number from Erik's phone and raising an eyebrow at the description "Flying Hottie"--and found that the police had been remarkably uninterested in what had happened to the two bodies they found at Essex’s residence in Sherman Oaks once they found out that both men were mutants. For once, it seemed, society’s lack of concern for the safety of mutants worked out in Erik’s and Charles’ favor. Angel was held briefly for questioning but released late Wednesday night, and Darwin had gone to pick her up from the station.

Charles entered his apartment cautiously and Erik belatedly remembered and relayed Logan’s message. Their minds were so connected now that he felt the confusing mix of feelings from Charles about that--anger, regret, sadness, doubt of his own moral position, and one more feeling which caught Erik by surprise. “You’re attracted to Logan!” he accused Charles. 

Charles’ mouth opened and shut as he realized he couldn’t really deny something he had just projected. “You’re attracted to other people,” Charles pointed out, defensively. “At least the one I’m attracted to didn’t return my interest. Not to mention--” he cut himself off as he realized that bringing up Erik’s promise to Emma was a can of worms he wasn’t ready to open yet. 

Alex came out his bedroom, looking remarkably better. “Hi, guys,” he said with a smile. “Apparently I missed all the fun yesterday. I feel bad about that.”

Charles shook his head. “It wasn’t fun, and frankly I’m glad you weren’t there. It looks like you’re feeling better?”

Alex nodded. “Yeah--I got some help, actually. Logan knew of this guy whose mutation was the ability to heal people--not just himself, like Logan, but other people--and he got this couple to help bring him this guy to me last night--this devil and this blue girl. I was pretty out of it when they were here so I don’t remember their names, but the girl knew you--”

“Raven,” whispered Charles. His face broke. “I can’t believe I missed her visiting. How--How was she?”

Alex was surprised and uncomfortable at Charles’ reaction. “Sorry, man...I really don’t remember much. I guess I was really sick. But I woke up this morning feeling a lot better.”

Charles abruptly gave Alex a tight hug. “I’m so glad to hear that, Alex!” 

Alex smiled and awkwardly patted Charles on the back. “So, what’s this I hear about you being straight now?” he said to Erik. 

Erik glared at Alex. This is was part of the problem with living too close to other people.

**

The next day Charles got a panicked phone call from two different college science departments, Pierce and Northridge. Someone qualified and experienced was needed immediately to take over Dr. Essex’s classes since he'd been tragically murdered; one class at Northridge (the same one Charles was originally supposed to have taught) and two at Pierce. Charles guiltily accepted both jobs, and found himself teaching a full load of four classes in total at two different colleges in the space of a week. 

One of the results of that was that it ended up making the loan officer very happy, and the mortgage Charles had applied for to purchase the house he had under contract was approved the week after that. Charles brought home a bottle of champagne and invited Emma and Hank over (Angel had moved in and taken up Logan’s space on the bed in the living room shortly after he moved out) to tell everyone the good news. He made everyone take a walking field trip to the new home and they entered cautiously.

He expected shouts of joy, but except for Erik (who was over the fucking _moon_ about it) mostly everyone was just incredulous. “Professor, _why_?” Darwin asked in disbelief. “You didn’t have to do this!” 

“But I wanted to,” Charles said, confused. “I want to have my friends close; I want to have a place mutants can be safe. Erik and I will live here--” he indicated the guest house in the backyard, “--but as for the rest of you, please pick out a room.”

Angel whooped and literally flew around the house to give herself a tour. 

Alex approached Charles. “This place needs a lot of work,” he observed. 

Charles smiled. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re feeling better, isn’t it?” He looked at Erik. “I’ll be spending most of my time teaching, but I’m trusting that you can take charge of any construction projects? You told me once that you liked to work with your hands,” Charles reminded Erik. 

“Hey, I can be in charge of some of those,” Alex objected. Charles fluttered his hands. “I’ll trust you to sort out the dominance issues,” he said airily.

Emma even picked out a room for their future child, although she disdained the idea of moving in herself. Erik’s gut clenched uncomfortably. 

 

One month later - October, 2002

Emma called one evening, and Erik would have let the call go to voicemail for the third time except that he was cooking dinner and Charles saw his phone ringing. "Hello, Emma," he answered the phone pleasantly, ignoring Erik's wild gesticulations. "Of course, we're here. Feel free to stop by."

Erik put his head back and groaned while he stirred the curry on the stove. Charles folded his arms and glared at him. "Are you really avoiding this responsibility like a child, Erik? Do I really have to remind you that _you_ got yourself into this?"

"I just wanted a little more time," Erik mumbled. "I want to fix up the house a bit more before we bring a child here." 

Charles paused, his face softening. "Oh my god, is that really why you have been avoiding this?"

"Well, yeah," Erik said, looking at him with a frown. "Why did you think?"

"I just thought you didn't want to have sex with Emma," Charles said calmly. 

"Well--no, I, well, that doesn't have to--I mean, why would--" Charles laughed at Erik's lack of articulation and hugged him from behind. He knew very well the confused jumble of emotions that Emma brought up in Erik. He was attracted to her but he didn't want to be, he didn't particularly like her, and he worried that his attraction to her upset Charles--no matter how many times Charles tried to tell him it didn't. Most of all, he was dreading being entangled with her in one manner or another for the rest of his life once the he fulfilled his promise. The idea of how, exactly, he went about fulfilling that promise was sometimes the subject of sexual fantasies that he desperately tried to hide from Charles, but they were too open to each other now for those kinds of secrets. Charles knew.

A lesser man--meaning someone who wasn't telepathic--might have felt threatened by such fantasies, but Charles could always feel the earthy, steady thrum of Erik's love for and attraction to Charles. So he got a kick out of teasing Erik sometimes. And he had a potential solution, and apparently it was time to bring it up to the parties in question.

Emma arrived a few minutes later. Erik sullenly asked if she would like to eat dinner with them, and she accepted graciously. 

Erik didn't talk much for that meal, feeling distinctly uncomfortable, but Charles and Emma chattered about how her work was going. Emma had taken over Shaw's office in the distribution office where Darwin also worked--the same office where Essex had assaulted her. Erik had a grudging admiration that she could work in the same building where that had happened to her, but he didn't voice it.

When they finished dinner, she brought up the reason she came. "I'm working on getting all the subsidiary production companies owned by Shaw Holdings to move away from adult content," she said calmly, business-like. "There is a unfinished project that--well, finishing it would be a wise business move," she said delicately. 

Charles snorted. _She means it will make her money,_ Charles explained to Erik. 

"It will make money for the _company_ ," Emma said, stressing the last word. "And the company does a lot of things that are good for mutants. Like, gives them jobs. And lobbies for political change."

Charles looked startled. "Emma, really? Lobbying?" He was also surprised that she had caught what he had thought was a private telepathic exchange with Erik. She was a stronger telepath than he remembered to give her credit for sometimes. 

She smiled. "Yes, lobbying; and thank you; and let's stay on-target, shall we? You two have a movie to finish." 

Erik and Charles looked at each other.

"I know you've both quit porn," Emma continued, "But only one more scene is needed, and it's just the two of you."

Charles interrupted her, smiling softly at Erik. "We'll do it," he said. Erik grinned back at him. They'd finally finish making the movie that was the reason they were together. They both felt like silly romantics for feeling nostalgic about something that had only happened three months or so before--and for that thing to be a _pornographic movie_ was so ridiculous that they both started laughing without explaining to Emma why it was so funny. 

She smiled tightly and waited patiently for their laughter to die down. "Great. If you could come to the studio Monday at noon, we'll take care of that. And the other reason I'm here--" her eyes flickered to Erik. "--I think you know."

Erik exhaled slowly. He did know. "Yeah. So. I guess you want to get started on that?"

"Not right away, no." Emma opened a notebook calendar. "I'd like to start trying in April of next year, and if I'm not pregnant by December we'll start again the following April."

Erik swallowed. "I can see you've put a lot of thought into this."

"Yes, I have." Emma looked at Erik and then at Charles and her business facade melted a little. She started speaking in uncharacteristically halted tones. "I'm hoping that you will be more than a sperm donor, quite honestly. I'm hoping you will both consider yourselves fathers to the child."

Erik looked at Charles, who was clearly very happy with Emma's words. Erik was still conflicted. He didn't think he was ready to be a parent. But with two co-parents, it would be easier, he thought. And he did like her timeline. He would have time to fix up the baby's room. He thought blue walls would be nice whether the baby was a boy or a girl, because Charles and Emma both had blue eyes.

Charles squeezed his hand hard for a moment and Erik's attention snapped from daydreaming back to the present. Emma and Charles were both gazing at him with touched expressions and eyes full of unshed tears. He immediately shut his eyes. "You can't do that to me," he said with a strangled voice. 

"Well, then you shouldn't be a big softie fantasizing about what color you're going to paint the baby's room," Emma chided. "Especially not around two telepaths."

Erik was sure that he was in some person's version of hell, but he couldn't bring himself to hate it that much.

"As for conception..." Emma began delicately.

"You should have sex," Charles said firmly. 

Erik snapped his eyes open to glare at Charles. "Charles!" He was _definitely_ in some person's version of hell.

There was a pause before Emma said coolly, "I'm not opposed to that."

"I'm--" Erik started to say he was opposed but when he saw the look on Charles' face he just couldn't. Charles was--aroused. He could feel Charles' excitement over their mental connection. And Erik was just not able to pass up the chance to fuck a woman as beautiful as Emma when he had not only the permission but the enthusiastic encouragement of his own partner. He couldn't bring himself to decline. Sometimes he hated that frat boy in his head. 

Instead he just groaned and put his forehead on the table. "I want him there," he pointed at Charles with his head still on the table. "At least mentally, if not physically." 

Emma gave Charles a considering look. She wasn't particularly attracted to him and she was a creature of negotiation, after all. "Mentally," she agreed. "But not in my head."

Charles beamed. He'd been trying to figure out a delicate way to ask if he could piggy-back on one of their minds anyway. And he suspected Erik knew that, but when Erik turned his head sideways on the table and grinned at Charles, out of Emma's line of sight, it confirmed his suspicions.

"I'd like to ask you to both get tested to make sure you're clean well before April," Emma said briskly, clearly moving on to the next item on her agenda.

"Fuck, Emma," Erik started, lifting his head from the table as Charles said, "Of course."

She nodded, smiling tightly, and moved to the next item on her list. "I am moving to Studio City to be closer to work, which also brings me closer here," she said. "I plan to maintain a separate residence, but during the end of my pregnancy and/or the first few months of the child's life, it would convenient if I could stay here." Emma paused and added softly, "I--don't have any family."

"Of course, Emma," Charles said, as Erik knew he would. 

"Well--" she stopped. "I have more on my list, but I guess we can start picking out schools later." Erik couldn't help but laugh. She stood to go, surprisingly giving them both hugs. "Thank you," she whispered to Erik and she hugged him.

 

January 2003

Charles went into the meeting with Dr. Cooper and the other department chairs at Northridge with trepidation. He assumed being called into a meeting like this could not be good, but in fact Dr. Cooper, very awkwardly, asked Charles how he would feel about starting and guiding a Mutant Studies major at Northridge. After Charles had picked his jaw up off the floor, Dr. Cooper explained that only two other colleges in the country had such a program and CSU Northridge would be the first college in California to offer a degree in Mutant Studies. And neither had a program chaired by an _actual mutant._ Charles refrained from rolling his eyes at Cooper's last words. He meant well.

However, Charles had a thought he simply _had_ to voice his concern about this, even though he might be shooting himself in the foot. "My speciality is biology; specifically, genetics," he said carefully. "I do not think science alone comprises a well-rounded Mutant Studies program."

"Oh, no, of course not," Dr. Cooper said with surprise. "This would be a multi-disciplinary major. The sociological part of the program will be directed by another fine young mutant Ph.D we've recruited, Dr. Armando Munoz." 

Charles had never heard of him. He labored under that misimpression until the man arrived at the meeting a few minutes later, slightly out of breath. "Sorry, I got out of work late," he apologized to the panel with a special wink for Charles. 

_Darwin??_ Charles thought at him, pushing past his usual telepathic defenses. _You're a DOCTOR?_

"ABD," he said modestly to Charles--All But Dissertation, the same as Charles. Not technically a doctor yet, but still..."I have a doctorate in Sociology and African-American American studies."

Charles laughed in disbelief. "I had no idea." 

_That's why I couldn't quit my job, even when I saw how horrible Shaw and Essex were,_ Darwin thought to Charles. _Student loans._

"It seems like you know each other," Dr. Cooper said, pleased. "That's wonderful, as you will be working closely together to build this program to start this fall--if you want to, of course."

"Yes," Charles and Darwin both said at the same time, and grinned at each other.

 

April 2003

It was the first time Erik had tried to have sex with a woman in about five years. 

His body wouldn't cooperate, at first. They were both sitting on the bed. Erik was wearing purple boxer briefs and Emma was wearing a white T-shirt. Emma was attractive but she was also very bossy and matter-of-fact and yet also oddly _awkward_ for Emma. She refused to let Charles' mind touch her at all, which was a little frustrating for Charles because he had what he thought were some great tips on how to get Erik more in the game, as it were. 

They were at Charles' house, of course, in one of the spare bedrooms. Charles was right next door in another spare bedroom. _Let me take over,_ Charles suggested and Erik was happy to agree. 

"Emma," said Charles through Erik's mouth. It was Erik’s timbre but Charles’ Oxford accent.

Emma frowned. "Charles?"

"Do you mind?"

She thought about it and shook her head. "I'm not into him for his mind," she said and then hastily added, "Not that I'm into him, I just mean..."

Charles-in-Erik smiled and pulled her in for a kiss. She was surprised and stiff, but finally relaxed into it. "I--I'm confused. Aren't you gay?" 

"You could make any man question his orientation," Charles-in-Erik murmured, and went in for another kiss. He was lying, of course; Erik could feel that, and it amused him, and he knew Charles knew he was amused. But he wanted Emma to relax and was looking for a way to draw her out.

"Really," she murmured against his mouth. 

"Don't think about it too hard," he advised, kissing her neck. This was all very novel for Charles, Erik could feel, and the excitement he felt about it was more a function of his wildly explorative sexual nature than it was that he was attracted to Emma.

_You should lick her pussy, if you really want to get her in the mood,_ Erik advised mischieviously, suspecting Charles did not have an interest in doing that. 

_Maybe I will,_ Charles said to Erik, to Erik's surprise. _But I'm going to try something else first. Incoming!_

Charles-in-Erik walked to the door and silently retrieved the two glasses of white wine that Charles had brought to the door. 

_Your powers of seduction are unparalleled,_ Erik thought dryly to Charles.

"Drink?" Charles-in-Erik said to Emma. She accepted it gratefully. 

The wine seemed to give her courage. "Is it okay if--" she bit her lip. "I know we're here to conceive, but is anyone here opposed to oral sex?"

"Nobody is opposed," Charles told her warmly, out of Erik's lips. 

"Then do you mind...would you lie down, and I'll..." 

Charles-in-Erik raised his eyebrows at the request and murmured, "Of course." He removed his boxers and lay down on the bed. 

Emma wanted to see him, kiss him, touch him--his body, at least. Being submissive was more Charles' forte than Erik's, so at this point it was fortunate that he was in charge. Erik felt that at some point, probably when things got really heterosexual, Charles would pull back and let Erik take over. 

She ran her hands down his body and kissed his stomach. She tentatively kissed his penis, which was finally responding to the stimulation, and wrapped her hand around it. 

The hand was too small, her touch not firm enough. Not that either of them was going to say that to her. 

She tongued his cock, swirling her tongue around the head, looking up at him. Erik felt a sudden surprising rush of appreciation for the view. She bowed her head and sank her head deeper on his cock, tonguing the slit at the top until she had teased a bead of precome out. 

He grasped her shoulders and flipped them over. Charles was not in charge anymore; he had pulled back, still observing, delighting in Erik's enjoyment--and Erik had started to enjoy himself. The startled look on Emma's face when they flipped over was gratifying to him and his penis wanted to partake. He moved his face down her body and licked at her opening, not trying to prove anything--he knew he was very out of practice for this--but to pragmatically assess her readiness and add some moisture if it was lacking. He quickly realized there was no shortage of wetness in her pussy and he experimentally put two fingers inside her. She gasped prettily and clutched his shoulders. 

"I'm gonna fuck you now," Erik growled to her. Her eyes widened--she was shocked by the language, and Erik wondered if he'd gone too far. But she quickly nodded, a flush running over her face, as she lifted her knees and spread her legs. 

Erik guided his penis in carefully but after a few thrusts she was whimpering and her body opened for him easily and soon he was fucking her harder. He wanted to bite her but wisely refrained--he suspected she wouldn't appreciate that the way Charles would. 

Charles! He hadn't thought about Charles in several minutes and a wave of guilt washed over him. _It's fine, Erik,_ he felt in his mind immediately. _I'm here; I'm touching myself while I'm watching you fuck._

Erik felt mollified but not completely. _This isn't right,_ he thought desperately to Charles, his hips beginning to falter. Emma's brow furrowed the tiniest bit as she looked up at him. 

_Just get it done, Erik! Put a baby in her now and you won't have to go through this again!_

Charles' telepathic voice seemed a bit strained, but his words made sense. He renewed his thrusting, eyes shut, trying to think thoughts that would make him come faster...thinking about Charles, tied up, begging to be fucked...Charles restrained by metal...Charles with metal in his nipples, squirming and crying when they were tugged...

Erik came with a relieved groan and Emma immediately snapped, "Put the pillow under my ass," and Erik did so quickly, even while his penis was still spurting inside her. When his climax had fully passed, Erik withdrew his cock carefully, trying not to spill any. He looked down at Emma, lying on her back with her knees bent up. He drew a sheet over her and she gave him a tired and grateful half-smile. 

"Um...do you need anything?" he asked awkwardly. He really wanted to go find Charles. 

"I'm fine, thank you," she said with her eyes closed, and Erik left the room to go to the room next door where Charles was waiting, to all appearances having just finished masturbating. Erik flopped face down on the bed next to Charles with a slight groan. 

Charles chuckled. "Come now, was that really so bad?" He stroked a hand along Erik's slightly sweaty back. 

"It was confusing and weird," Erik mumbled into the bedspread under his head. "Can I just fuck you from now on?"

"As long as you got her pregnant, then yes," Charles answered with a smile. 

Afterward, although Charles insisted he was glad for the experience, none of the three of them were eager to repeat the act. The ‘turkey baster’ option was brought up but it was fortunately not necessary as an excited Emma came by in May, on the last day of classes for the semester in fact, to tell Erik and Charles that they were going to be daddies. The whole house had an impromptu party that night, inviting over their friends Hank and Moira and even Alex’s little brother Scott, who lived in a foster home in Los Angeles. 

Charles called Raven late that night, drunk, and they talked for over an hour for the first time since she had left. They had a lot to catch up on, and both ended up in tears--not only did Charles haltingly explain the reason her timing had been so bad the day she left, but she told him that she was 6 months pregnant herself.

 

January 2004

“Erik, no,” Charles sighed, when Erik started to argue with Emma about getting an epidural. She had steadfastly refused until the nurse came in and told Emma it would be her last chance to get one. Emma, sweating and exhausted from having been in labor for twenty-two hours already, agreed. Erik seemed to be arguing just for the sake of it--Charles couldn’t imagine why he would object to the epidural.

“Out,” Moira said firmly to Erik. He started to argue but he really didn’t want to be in the delivery room. He was feeling anxious and like all strong feelings in Erik it manifested as anger. 

Emma had worked up until the day she went into labor, although she had everything prepared to pass off to her assistants, Angel and Hank, when it was time to leave for the hospital. Angel had replaced Darwin doing the administrative work of the company while Emma had hired Hank to lobby for political causes beneficial to mutants. They had both agreed to take on a little more work for the time Emma was expected to be on maternity leave. 

Charles and Moira took turns sitting with Emma, helping her and encouraging her until she finally delivered in the wee hours of January fifth, 2004. The baby girl had a little tuft of light red hair, almost a perfect balance between Emma’s blond and Erik’s auburn. They named her Jean.

 

April 2004

Charles was standing on the front porch holding the baby, giving Emma a chance to nap, when Azazel and Raven appeared in front of him in a puff of red smoke. Charles’ eyes were immediately drawn to the bundle in Raven’s arms--a little blue baby named Kurt, with Raven’s coloring and Azazel’s tail. After everyone had hugged, Charles showed them to the room in the house that he had set aside and prepared for them if they ever wanted to visit. 

Erik came and stood at the door of the room and collected a big hug from Raven as well. His hair was tousled as he had just awoken from a nap himself, knowing Charles needed to go teach soon. 

It was almost like Raven had been waiting for Charles to leave. “What happened between him and Logan?” she asked bluntly, as soon as the door closed behind Charles.

Erik hesitated. They never talked about that day. The police had apparently filed the case as unsolved, although every once in a while someone would show up to harass Angel or Emma about it fruitlessly because there was no evidence--they would always leave Emma convinced that she was not involved for some reason. Logan, however, came up in conversation in the house frequently, although every time Charles’ lips would go in a tight line and he would change the subject as soon as possible.

“He did something Charles can’t forgive,” Erik said finally, looking at his baby daughter as he did, not at Raven.

“But you forgive him?” Raven said, perceptively.

Erik snorted. “Hell, I’m glad he did it.”

Raven was silent a minute, studying him carefully. The she asked quietly, “Would I agree with you or with Charles?”

Erik considered her carefully. He’d been a little jealous when Raven and Azazel had left to be mutant vigilantes; he’d never seriously considered leaving because Charles needed him too much in those first few weeks, and then it just became impossible. But he suspected that there was a lot he and Raven would agree on. “I think you’d agree with me.”

The answer seemed to appease her, and she seemed to make a decision. “We see Logan pretty frequently,” she said. “We have housed about a half a dozen different people with him temporarily. He--he’s sad a lot. He misses you guys.”

Erik didn’t say anything, looking away and rocking the baby. Time had made his memory of Logan more fond than anything, and he had never once harbored ill will towards Logan for killing Shaw and Essex. Even his jealousy regarding the muscled man seemed silly and petty now. He knew that the friendship meant more to Charles than Charles wanted to admit; and he knew that the grudge Charles was holding against Logan was not doing either of them any good. Still, he hesitated to tell Raven what she wanted to hear.

“He’s engaged,” Raven said and Erik snapped his head up in surprise. “One of the girls we housed with him temporarily--I guess they hit it off. Her name’s Marie.”

Maybe he was more jealous than he wanted to admit, because that made a difference to him. “I’ll talk to Charles about it,” Erik said.

He didn’t get a chance to, though. Logan showed up with Azazel that night when most of the household was in the large living room gathered around Erik’s giant-screen TV. He didn’t knock, just came in and stood there until everyone found a reason to leave the room except Charles. 

Logan and Charles talked for a couple hours, and Erik pointedly did not eavesdrop. Being a stay-at-home parent was too exhausting for him to maintain jealous feelings when he knew they weren’t justified. When Charles came to bed, he seemed lighter and happier, somehow, and the tears on his cheeks led to some spectacular sex with Erik. After that, Raven, Azazel, and Logan became frequent visitors to Mutant Central, as Alex jokingly called the house in North Hollywood.

 

January 2005

Around his teaching schedule and parenting responsibilities, Charles somehow found the time to write a book about his experience trying to get by as a mutant in Los Angeles in the early 2000s and how it led to him working in the porn industry. The book, which highlighted the terrible and few options some mutants have, was a surprise runaway bestseller and Charles sold the movie rights to Emma's production company. The movie, starring Ed Norton as Charles, Jon Hamm as Erik, and Logan as himself won four academy awards and did respectably at the box office. 

More importantly, the book and movie pushed society to sympathize with and accept mutants. Some people’s minds would never be changed, but the movement was strong enough that with the assistance of Hank’s lobbying efforts the Mutant Protection Act was passed by the United States Congress in February of 2007. The act specified that being a mutant is a protected class under Federal law and therefore housing and employment discrimination is illegal. 

Moira agreed to babysit Jean and Kurt so everyone could go to the impromptu street party in Venice the day the act is passed. It was one of the only times in his life Erik got well and truly drunk.

 

October 2008

Charles and Erik took advantage of a brief window of time in California when same sex marriage was legal to get married. The wedding was hastily assembled, taking place in Mutant Central’s huge backyard. Logan was the best man and Raven was the maid of honor (nobody dared to ask Raven or Azazel if they ever planned to get married). Little Jean was a flower girl with just enough control of her telekinesis to toss flower petals around, especially at the most inappropriate parts of the ceremony.

 

October 2014

“Charles,” Erik called as he entered their shared guest house, a funny, nostalgic smile on his face. “I found something I want to show you.” Jean was at Emma’s that night, which was good. Sometimes having a telepathic ten-year-old around wasn’t the best idea when one wanted to watch pornography.

“Hmm?” Charles was sitting on their bed, reading, when Erik plopped down next to him with his laptop computer in hand. Erik had put a DVD in the drive and was waiting for it to load. When Charles saw the title come up, he laughed out loud. “Oh my god! I never saw this, did you?”

Erik shook his head, chuckling. He pulled his husband close to his side and they watched younger versions of themselves as they had sex for the first time. 

“Oh my god, that bald cap,” Charles groaned, looking at the laptop screen between the fingers of the hands he had pressed to his face. 

“You were so worried about hurting me,” Erik commented fondly. 

“Well, I knew you weren’t used to bottoming,” Charles said, giving his husband a grin. 

The both winced at some terrible edits that followed in that scene. A shot of Erik and Logan came up, and Erik leaned forward to press skip, but Charles caught his hand and watched with growing amusement until he laughed outright. “Oh my god, Erik, that is the saddest handjob I’ve ever seen. You look miserable! You poor thing,” Erik accepted a sympathy kiss and then both men got tense as the next scene started--Logan fucking Charles. 

Erik tried to be objective as they watched. “It’s a pretty hot scene,” he finally admitted. “If you like men.”

‘If you like men’ had become a bit of a joke with them, because, well, Erik didn’t. Except for Charles. 

Then the set started to shake and both men watched in astonishment as Erik came through the wall before there was an abrupt cut and the next scene was Charles and Erik. 

“They--they used _that_? When you went all macho and busted in?” Charles said with his mouth agape. 

“Maybe it was just shitty editing?” Erik suggested. 

“We might be able to tell if we had the sound on,” Charles pointed out. Erik turned the sound on just as he heard himself say, “Count.”

As if commanded, his cock got hard. He remembered then that for the last scene in the movie, since Emma rolled her eyes and said she didn’t really care what they did as long as they had a final scene, they had re-enacted essentially the sex they had had in Mutant Central that first time, before they had bought the house. This included the metal straps supporting Charles’ floating body, the spanking, the counting, and the crying. The script was out the window by that point--the scene was hot enough that nobody in production really cared if it made sense in the context of the movie--and the film was almost nominated for an AVN special effects award until Emma shut that down by explaining exactly how the “special effects” (Charles being levitated) were accomplished. 

Erik chanced a look at Charles and saw his husband breathing through parted lips, eyes darkened with desire as he watched younger versions of themselves fucking on the laptop screen. Erik fisted a hand firmly in the hair at the nape of Charles’ neck and kissed him thoroughly. He used his power to tug on Charles’ nipple rings, making the man whimper and squirm. “I’m sure I can find some metal bands around here somewhere,” he growled, nipping at Charles’ jawline. 

“Magianto, old friend, you know I’m up for anything.”

Erik grinned and palmed Charles’ cock. “That’s true in more ways than one.”


End file.
